MONTE CARLO.

Press, Volume LIV, Issue 9736, 26 May 1897, Page 2

MONTE CARLO.

The Place Where the Bank » not

Broken.

in Melbourne Argus.

Faeilii ascemnts Averni, "easy _ the climb to Hell," if the adaptation be permitted, describes the progress from the railway station to the gambling casino. You are raised in a very comfortable, roomy, easyrunning lift direct from the carriage door to the terrace outside tbe rooms, and as you rise the broad blue Mediterranean at your feet spreads to the horizon, the vast mountain a which shut in Monte Carlo and Monaco break upon you iv all their majesty, and if you arc impressionable you may even imagine that the glorious scene sanctifies the play which attracts thousands of people daily. " Vet I know a few constant players who run down from Nice every day who are quite unconscious o£ the l>eauties of the situation. If you asked theiu to describe the chief features of the picture they wonld fail. " The play is the thing." All else is auxiliary. The Bank as Juggernaut. The neophyte is insinuated to his doom. If he bo living at Nice or Cannes on the one side, or at Mentone on the other, he finds no lack of trains. They are always running. TheoArriagesarecoay.tho speed is "express." Everything seems easy. At the station a rich soft Italian baritouc gives the invitation to alight in the seducire Monn-t«k-ahloo, and everyone falls to the voice of the charmer. The claily traffic is a pilgrimage, such as the world has never before seen, and it is something more. It means a gigantic sacrifice, for it has been estimated that the "bank" must make a profit of at least £2000 a day to pay expenses atone, which of course is contributed by the pilgrims. Yet they come. Old Blanc, the founder of the institution, was once asked by an innocent which colour won most frequently—rouge or noir. He said frankly " Rouge perds, et noir perds ; mais Blanc gangue toujours." There never was a truer exemplification of the Tennysonian dictum that " the individual withers." The " bank" in this case, however, and not the " world" "is more and more." Wells, Who Afterwards Went Broke. We have heard a good deal of the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo, but a much more interesting person must have been the man who made the bank at Monte Carlo. He devised a simple, entirely fair game, which gives the promise to the player of great riches at a single coup, but for a generation or more thousands and thousands of players have been pegging away at the bank with disastrous results to themselves. Of course one hears of extraordinary good luck, and instances are quoted freely, but in the long run it is the bank only that wins. Wells, who broke the bank, did nothing of the kind. He simply exhausted the stock of money at the particular table at which he was playing, and the croupiers were obliged* to send upstairs for more. But it was snch a fine advertisement for the casino that it would not be difficult to believe that the whole affair was pre-arranged, that is presuming that there could be any complicity between bank and player—a presumption which the method of play does not encourage. The Man the Bank Likes. The fashion is to pUy on a system, and there are hundreds of systems, all more or less promising, all certain to {ail. xou can buy them id -the sbope a£> UTice, yon ~«»-— El_x«Elxt — «jm frieoda ; there is the there is the * * "Vanity Fair " system, and, so on, but sooner or later the bank catches the hapless player who is not satisfied with a reasonable win, and forces his luck. Indeed, it is not ixnli—lely tliavt the bank itself is the author of these systems. They pay so well. — 5 '. m : THe croupiers —.l-wxtys smile on the mart -who comes to attack them on a new plan. "Make way for the gentleman with the system ; give him the best seat, court him." This is the spider policy of the proprietary, and when the player takes his Beat, displays bis rolls of notes and sets' to -work, the officials know they have him borly and soal and parse. Two stockbrokers from Wall street came to my hotel on their Way to Monte Carlo. They had devised an absolutely safe system, one which, applied to the operations of the stock market of New Yortt, gate a return of 1(55% per annum/ It was equally applicable to roulette as played at Monte Carlo, and they came fortified with a heavy draft to crumple up the bank. I knew they wonld have a very poor opinion of mc if I did not ask them to tell their secret. I did. They didn't. It was as I expected, so I could not complain. In due coarse they played, in a few weeks they were played out, and now they are disinterested spectators of the operation of other systems. •'- The Carbonic Acid Gas Trick. .Most players of systems fail because they do no accurately calculate the ohances. This j is something more than a playful truism. I do not mean the chances of the table merely, but the advantage which the atmosphere gives the bank. The rooms are artificially warmed and unventilated, consequently the j air becomes heavy and proof against the endurance of the strongest man. The play, on "the other hand, requires the closest ■ attention if one is playing a system, which the condition of the air absolutely forbids over a long term. Many men are broken in i health before they are broken in pocket, I while others, feeling the strain, plunge ] prematurely, and lose all before they have really given their plans fair play. i In the Rooms. ' ! The visitor, entering the rooms for the first time, is disillusioned. His preconceived notions doubtless lead him to expect bustle, the loud clatter of money, haggard faces of the plungers who have lost, painful expect* ancy on the features of players Who are beginning, evidence of sordid greed everywhere. This is sheer idealism. The truth is that the assemblage is so demure and wellbehaved that one might almost imagine himself at a University conversazione, with Professor Spencer delivering a lecturette on biology at one table, Professor Kornot discoursing on engineering at another, with groups of " theoiog3," from Ormond or Trinity, here and there in the hall. The janitors, in dull green uniform, faced with red, are umntelleetually grave, and might pass for pew-openers. The conduct is admirable; there is no noise, everyone speaks under his breath, and the roulette spins silently. In the large" hall are ten roulette tables.; beyond are four trente-et-quarante tables. " Chairs are provided at each table where constant system-players sit. When a chair is vacated it is rushed, and this demand has produced a "chair exploiter'—• indeed several of them. These persons make a living by snapping seats and selling their pre-emption. One man. never sells under' a lonie, and he does a very good trade. It is a notable fact that the* plungers who make the moat desperate wagers seldom have chairs. They move from table to table, an--? stake just as their fancy takes them. Sometimes, of course, they make big wins. Mrs Langtry won £1000 .one evening when I was in the rooms, and a few nights ago (at the beginning of February) a Frenchman landed £6,000. In' the same week a Frenchman made a prodigious win. He began at trente et quarante with one loais (16s 8d), and without having the necessity to put his hand into his pocket again he won £10,000 before rising from the table. He was quite satisfied, and as he walked through the rooms he was followed by a throng, while men and women rushed at him to touch him with a coin, in the hope that his luck might by some occult influence be communicated to them. There is a story that two Englishmen won £12,000 last year in one night, took the money and the next train to London, gave a swell dinner at the Metropole, where everything was red, in commemoration of the bets on rouge which won them the large sum. The bank was quite delighted. 0~„ Englishmen have since tried to do the same thing; other Englishmen will continue to try it. A familiar figure on the Promenade dcs Anglais at Nice is an old British officer, Major —-——. He takes the sun in the forenoon wrapped in a Scottish plaid, after the maimer of old gentlemen of forty years ago. He has an air which attracts you, and natnr_ry you inquire as to who he may be. He is th© man who was broken by the Bank at Monte Carlo—or, rather, one of that noble army of martyrs. I hesitate to repeat all the statements of his gigantic losses ; but in a spirit of moderation will say that he lost two fortunes, though the remark might, I admit, be objected to on the ground of want of definiteness. However, he is reported to be, or to have been—l am not sore which —a pensioner on the bank to the amount of a> few shiUiogs a> day, tbo institution

having had much the better of the deaL He is not the only ••exhibit," in proof of the fact that though the roulette wheer grindsi slowly "it grinds exceedingly small." The Withering of the Women. An enterprising jeweller has made a. competence by trading in jewellery with Monte Carlo plungers. . -Is shop on the Place Massena is the scene of many transactions which indicate that the bank is somewhat potent, to say the least. Women, who are the most hardened gamblers when once they take the fatal steo, will strip themselves of every sbillingsworlh of jewellery to provide capital for their hopeless fight, »nd the Nice jeweller is -very accommodating- He does not at all mind offering as much as forty, or even forty-live per cent, of the trae value of an out-and-out sale, and, on these terms, he finds many—very many clients. The window ia well packed with his trophies, his sales to newcomers are of considerable volume, and he frequently makes repurchases of the one article four or five tunes, and all the while the bank is more and more. Someone Mcst Pay. The philosophical visitor, who knows intuitively that tha play is a desperate and hopeless contest against overpowering odds, need not seek far ior evidence that the bank has the best of it. A very significant procession passes through one of the doors from the private apartments three times a day. It is formed of the croupiers, who arc coming out to relieve their fellows at the tables, and when the long file is seen it is easy to realise that someone must lose to enable those men to be paid. There are eight men to each table, and fourteen tables. Allowing fa:- double shifts and emergency men, there j. . .t be a uorps of nearly 250 officers for the working of the tables alone. These include two chefs de* partie for each table, exalted ps|»>ns who sit ia high chairs at opposite sides and watch the play, thereby keeping a constant watch over the croupiers. The latter undergo long training at spinning the roulette wheel, paying money, giving change, and so on, and it is only necessary to see them at work to appreciate the thoroughness of their education. They rarely make mistakes. Then- hands' mast always be on the tables, this rule being devised to prevent any misappropriating of money. It seems a hardship that theyf'should be compelled to keep the wrists on the awkward strain which this implies/but they are accustomed to it. They are not permitted to receive tips, but they get them all the same. One player always tipped the croupier he played with by a very simple method. He stood behind the chair, and when the officer handed up his winnings he adroitly slipped a louis now and again down the gentleman's sleeve. ■ What became of the coin < afterwards he did inquire. If money be dropped on the floor no one is supposed to stoop for it. A bell is rung at the table, and a janitor attends with a lantern, and under the direct supervision of a chef de partie seeks for and nearly always finds the lost piece. If everyone were permitted to search there would be liberal opportunities for enterprising persons. The Discreet Janitors. Next to the croupiers the janitors are the most interesting individuals in the rooms. They compose a respectably large army, and "mooch" about the room aimlessly until they are wanted. Given a disturbance or even the promise of a disturbance, and they lire on the spot in an instant. There are secret doors all rotuid the -wall, and. an o£Pen<3e2T i— -tarfa£sfe:ex3. oefoxre .there is „mc for- a. seneation. Two o€ my- friends II 11 ' if" |M ♦"_•!_ ass-ore mc that lost year they saw a. dead man being* walked off by three of these attendants. The unfortunate fellow dropped dead at one of the tables, he was put on to his feet in a second, and hustled away, so tfo&t" -the people miglit; suppose tdiab he liacl merely fainted. Another friend, who is a -loij tutu turn «i.vi.,«« .......j .. yearly hsbcL _.t_ *' _.clv<_a__x*e_" as _te calla it, two years ago. He was sitting next a young Frenchman, who very inconsiderately shot himself. Two bullets were in the head before my friend could clutch at tke revolver, and the third ahot grazed the tip of-his nose and lodged, in the" ceiling. The victim lingered three weeks. He had been playing with his employer's money— and had lost.

The Coi|- any Does Pretty Well. In addition of Monaco £80,0way|ar forjts conceasion, the bank has to maintain all the public institutions of the principality, and provide all the funds for municipal purposes. Further, it liberally endows sports meetings, such as races, pigeon shooting, and so on, with a view to attracting people; it subsidises certain hotels to give seven-franc dinners for five f ranee; it has organised and keeps up to a high standard the finest orchestra in Europe, which gives free concerts every day excepting Thursday (when a charge of. half-a-orown is made); it arranges • a season of grand opera each winter, at which Patti, Melba, and other .great ar/tists of the world may be heard, at a charge which, though large to the individual seat holder (thirty-three shillings and fourpence), cannot, having regard to the sraallness of the theatre, return anything like the cost of the productions. In" addition, it has to maintain a vast institution,' involving an immense outlay. The gardens alone must require an expenditure of £5000 a year at least. And even then the shareholders receive .dividends of 8 to 10%, Keep it Dark. As might be expected, the bank is the object of blackmail by disreputable papers. Though the Prince of Monaco is absolute in his own petty dominion of six square miles, it may be easily understood that even he might be compelled to withdraw the ooncession if outside opinion were aroused to the propriety of such a course. Outside opinion, hdwever, is dormant, because, very little appears in r the, French Press about Monte 'Carlo "that is not flattering and ; favourable; to the bank. To ensure'this respectful treatment of its interests the company has, of course, to pay handsomely, and an English journalist resident in Nice tells mc that last year between £3000 and £4,000 was paid to journals in the immediate neighbourhood. It was not surprising, therefore, that when, as happened a few nights ago, a lady who'had just left the tables was knocked over by a train and frightfully mangled the papers next day eagerly reported the matter as a iVmentable "" accident." Perhaps it was. j Too Many Corpses- in his Mosxisa Walk. It is, of course, difficult to ensure the policy of all papers, even by such a flourish" ! ing institution as the bank. The English journals now and again let the light in upon the scene. I read the followrng in a recent issue of the London Daily Chronicle from its correspondent at Paris: — " . * ' " The tragic side of Monte Carlo is becoming a crying scandal. Mr Lund, the American gentleman -whose mangled remains were found on the line near Gros de Cagnes, left Paris the other day with a large sum of money, which he lost. The authorities adopt Turk—h methods in their concealment of suicides. A lady was left at Nice byherhus band, who was summoned to England on busi ness. On his return he found that she had sold 25,000fl worth of bonds, payable to bearer, and had lost them at trente et quarente, Her jewellery was all pawned at, a bric-a-brac shop. She h»d just purchased some poison at the chemist's when her husband returr - T unexpectedly.. The registration of deaths according to the Monogasque law is a sh_in, for the books rarely, if ever, mention suicide. An old resident at Monaco dec—res that he I—i repeatedly found corpses along the lower esplanade, and that he has ?Iven up early morning walks for this reason, eople supposed to be missing from Paris are of ten traced to the Riviera. Since the beginning of this season there have been B_ty-five cases of suicide." A Fine Game for Millionaires, -One never wants for advice as to how to play to break the bank. The best I received waa from a gentleman who, in a quiet way, has left '£1000 with the institution, and he put the matter pithily, " H you have money i enough yon can win." No doubt* Yet there are consistent winners of small sums. They are prudent. In the first place, they do not Kve at Monte Carlo, bnt run down from one of the neighbouring towns. - .They never take more than- £4 or £5, which they are prepared to lose, and each makes s point of returning by a certain train. The obligation to catch the train prevents" them "forcing; their rack if they have won, which' ; would oe disastrous, while if they have lost, there is an end to their play. It goes withj out saying, of course, .that someone must win, else there would be no play, and that everyone hopes to win is proved by the eagerness with which the tables, are rushed. A large crowd gathers" outeide the doors -at

noon, just such a crowd as assembles outside the Princess's Theatre on «first night waiting for tbe opening of the ticket boxes. At the hour precisely the are drawn from the inside, and there is a violent stampede, in which the weak and old are borne as on a flood. Everyone wants one of the small number of seats. Looking on at the jostling one cannot rcf rain from moralising, because really it is so easy. The lesson, indeed, is so obvious that I must be pardoned for omitting to expound it. It is sufficient to note the jaunty step to the tables, and the heavy-footed pace from them. The bank reckons its daily winnings only in the bulk, and the result is always kept secret; but it would be interesting to ascertain what amount each individual, say, in the first thousand visitors iv the day takes into the rooms and what he brings away. Iv January this year 82,000 .tickets were collected at Monte Carlo station. This does not mean so many individuals, because hundreds who live in neighbouring towns go every day. Reckoning, however, that each of those"tickets meant a gain to the bank of two louis, which is a very moderate computation, the income for January would be about £130,000. Statistics on those lines, however startling, will not shut up Monte Carlo. A continuous stream of patrons may always be relied upon by the bank, while the game is, undoubtedly, perfectly fair, and the chances exist for making an immense coup. " Ah," tbe preacher will, perhaps, say, " but this is gambling." Well, so it is. There is, however, at least one reflection more or less consoling. The road from Monte Carlo is paved with good intentions.