13. LETTER XIII.
THE GAMBLING-HOUSES OF PARIS.
I accepted, last night, from a French gentleman
of high standing, a polite offer of introduction to one
of the exclusive gambling clubs of Paris. With the
understanding, of course, that it was only as a spectator,
my friend, whom I had met at a dinner party,
despatched a note from the table, announcing to the
temporary master of ceremonies his intention of presenting
me. We went at eleven, in full dress. I was
surprised at the entrance with the splendor of the
establishment — gilt balustrades, marble staircases,
crowds of servants in full livery, and all the formal
announcement of a court. Passing through several
ante-chambers, a heavy folding-door was thrown open,
and we were received by one of the noblest-looking
men I have seen in France — Count — — . I was put
immediately at my ease by his dignified and kind politeness;
and after a little conversation in English,
which he spoke fluently, the entrance of some other
person left me at liberty to observe at my leisure.
Everything about me had the impress of the studied
taste of high life. The lavish and yet soft disposition
of light, the harmony of color in the rich hangings
and furniture, the quiet manners and subdued tones
of conversation, the respectful deference of the servants,
and the simplicity of the slight entertainment,
would have convinced me, without my Asmodeus, that
I was in no every-day atmosphere. Conversation proceeded
for an hour, while the members came dropping
in from their evening engagements, and a little after
twelve a glass door was thrown open, and we passed
from the reception-room to the spacious suite of apartments
intended for play. One or two of the gentlemen
entered the side rooms for billiards and cards, but
the majority closed about the table of hazard in the
central hall. I had never conceived so beautiful an
apartment. It can be described in two words —
columns
and
mirrors. There was nothing else between the
exquisitely-painted ceiling and the floor. The form
was circular, and the wall was laid with glass, interrupted
only with pairs of Corinthian pillars, with their
rich capitals reflected and re-reflected innumerably.
It seemed like a hall of colonnades of illimitable
extent — the multiplication of the mirrors into each
other was so endless and illusive. I felt an unconquerable
disposition to abandon myself to a waking
revery of pleasure; and as soon as the attention of
the company was perfectly engrossed by the silent
occupation before them, I sank upon a sofa, and gave
my senses up for a while to the fascination of the
scene. My eye was intoxicated. As far as my sight
could penetrate, stretched apparently interminable
halls, carpeted with crimson, and studded with graceful
columns and groups of courtly figures, forming
altogether, with its extent and beauty, and in the subdued
and skilfully-managed light, a picture that, if
real, would be one of unsurpassable splendor. I quite
forgot my curiosity to see the game. I had merely
observed, when my companion reminded me of the
arrival of my own appointed hour for departure, that,
whatever was lost or won, the rustling bills were
passed from one to the other with a quiet and imperturbable
politeness, that betrayed no sign either of
chagrin or triumph; though, from the fact that the
transfers were in paper only, the stakes must have
been anything but trifling. Refusing a polite invitation
to partake of the supper, always in waiting, we
took leave about two hours after midnight.
As we drove from the court, my companion suggested
to me, that, since we were out at so late an
hour, we might as well look in for a moment at the
more accessible “hells,” and, pulling the cordon, he
ordered to “Frascati's.” This, you know of course,
is the fashionable place of ruin, and here the heroes
of all novels, and the rakes of all comedies, mar or
make their fortunes. An evening dress, and the look
of a gentleman, are the only required passport. A
servant in attendance took our hats and canes, and
we walked in without ceremony. It was a different
scene from the former. Four large rooms, plainly
but handsomely furnished, opened into each other,
three of which were devoted to play, and crowded
with players. Elegantly-dressed women, some of
them with high pretensions to French beauty, sat and
stood at the table, watching their own stakes in the
rapid games with fixed attention. The majority of
the gentlemen were English. The table was very
large, marked as usual with the lines and figures of
the game, and each person playing had a small rake
in his hand, with which he drew toward him his proportion
of the winnings. I was disappointed at the
first glance in the faces: there was very little of the
high-bred courtesy I had seen at the club-house, but
there was no very striking exhibition of feeling, and I
should think, in any but an extreme case, the whis
pering silence and general quietness of the room
would repress it. After watching the variations of
luck awhile, however, I selected one or two pretty
desperate losers, and a young Frenchman who was a
large winner, and confined my observation to them
only. Among the former was a girl of about eighteen,
a mild, quiet-looking creature, with her hair curling
long on her neck, and hands childishly small and white,
who lost invariably. Two piles of five-franc pieces and
a small heap of gold lay on the table beside her, and I
watched her till she laid the last coin upon the losing
color. She bore it very well. By the eagerness with
which, at every turn of the last card, she closed her
hand upon the rake which she held, it was evident
that her hopes were high; but when her last piece
was drawn in to the bank, she threw up her little
fingers with a playful desperation, and commenced
conversation even gayly with a gentleman who stood
leaning over her chair. The young Frenchman continued
almost as invariably to win. He was excessively
handsome; but there was a cold, profligate, unvarying
hardness of expression in his face, that made me dislike
him. The spectators drew gradually about his
chair; and one or two of the women, who seemed to
know him well, selected a color for him occasionally,
or borrowed of him and staked for themselves. We
left him winning. The other players were mostly
English, and very uninteresting in their exhibition of
disappointment. My companion told me that there
would be more desperate playing toward morning, but
I had become disgusted with the cold selfish faces of
the scene, and felt no interest sufficient to detain me.
