SPA.
`The gambling houses of Spa are in the Redoute, where
Rouge et Noir and Roulette are carried on nearly
from morning to night. The profits of these establishments exceed
£40,000 a year. In former times they belonged to the Bishop of
Liege, who was a partner in the concern, and derived a considerable
revenue from his share of the ill-gotten gains of the manager of the
establishment, and no gambling tables could be set up without his
permission.'[76]
`The gambling in Spa is in a lower style than elsewhere. The
croupiers seem to be always on the look-out for cheating. You never see
here a pile of gold or bank notes on the table, as at Hombourg or
Wiesbaden, with the player saying, “Cinquante louis aux
billet,&” “Cent-vingt louis à la masse,&” and
the winnings scrupulously paid, or the losings raked carefully away from
the heap. They do not allow that at Spa; there is an order against it on
the wall. They could not trust the people that play, I suppose, and it is
doubtful if the people could trust the croupiers. The ball spins more
slowly at
Roulette — the cards are dealt more gingerly at
Trente-et-quarante here than elsewhere. Nothing must be
done quickly, lest somebody on one side or other should try to do
somebody else. Altogether Spa is not a pleasant place to play in, and as,
moreover, the odds are as great against you as at Ems, it is better to
stick to the promenade
de sept heures and the ball-room, and
leave the two tables alone. Outside it is cheery and full of life. The
Queen of the Belgians is here, the Duke of Aumale, and other nice
people. The breeze from the hills is always delicious; the Promenade
Meyerbeer as refreshing on a hot day as a draught of iced water. But
the denizens, male and female, of the
salons de jeu are often
obnoxious, and one wishes that the old Baden law could be enforced
against some of the gentler sex.
`By way of warning to any of your readers who propose to visit
the tables this summer, will you let me tell a little anecdote, from
personal experience, of one of these places — which one I had perhaps
better not say. I took a place at the Roulette table, and had not staked
more than once or twice, when two handsomely dressed ladies placed
themselves one on either side of me, and commenced
playing with the smallest coins allowed, wedging me in rather
unpleasantly close between them. At my third or fourth stake I won on
both the colour and a number, and my neighbour on the right quietly
swept up my coins from the colour the instant they were paid. I
remonstrated, and she very politely argued the point, ending by restoring
my money. But during our discussion my far larger stake, paid in the
mean while, on the winning number, had disappeared into the pocket of
my neighbour on the left, who was not so polite, and was very indignant
at my suggestion that the stake was mine. An appeal to the croupier
only produced a shrug of the shoulders and regret that he had not seen
who staked the money, an offer to stop the play, and a suggestion that I
should find it very difficult to prove it was my stake. The
“plant&” between the two women was evident. The whole
thing was a systematically-planned robbery, and very possibly the
croupier was a confederate. I detected the two women in communica-tion, and I told them that I should change my place to the other side of
the table where I would trouble them not to come. They took the hint
very mildly, and could afford to do so, for they had got
my money. The affair was very neatly managed, and would succeed in
nearly every case, especially if the croupier is, as is most probable,
always on the side of the ladies.'
