With a population estimated at 250,000, Cleveland supports a dozen public gambling houses, half a dozen private poker clubs and two policy shops. In deference to unfavorable public sentiment, which forms the basis of restrictive measures enforced by the police, all forms of gambling are of necessity conducted in an exceedingly quiet manner. As a rule, all public gaming is conducted behind locked doors and applicants for admissionadmission are subjected to close scrutiny. For thirty years but one line of policy has been pursued by the municipal authorities toward gambling houses, and in all that time public opinion has been uniformly hostile to the business. The policy of the authorities has been to restrict, rather than to abolish, gambling. They have endeavored to place the games, as far as possible, beyond the reach of uninitiated and guileless citizens who would probably prove easy victims, and to limit their patronage to those whose experience has made them more familiar with the wiles of the professional gamester.

There is not a gambling house in Cleveland conducted on the ground floor, nor is there one run with open doors. With a solitary exception, the gambling rooms, of which there are about a dozen, are located in the second story of the business blocks. The exception referred to is a Chinese “joint,” operated in connection with a Mongolian laundry in a basement.

In 1866, there were but a half dozen gambling establishments in the city, and nearly all the six opened have commenced operations within the past eight years. There have, however, been several gambling rooms opened and conducted for only a short time, whose doors were closed because of the slender resources of the “bank,” which could not sustain the loss of a few thousand dollars. Within the past few years the police have emphatically insisted that the gambling rooms be kept hidden from public gaze. The object undoubtedly has been, as before intimated, so to arrange matters that only those who were obstinately bent on play, could find a place in which to stake their earnings on the turn of a card.

It has also been a feature of police policy to make a formal raid every year. In the Police Court it has been the custom to assess nominal fines of fifty dollars and costs on the keepers of gambling houses and ten dollars and costs on the visitors. Both classes have always assented to the arrangement, and, after pleading guilty, paid their fines without protest. A great many disinterested citizens insist that such proceedings, besides being inherently farcical, partake very much of the nature of an indirect licensing of the business.

A State statute provides that, when ordered by a court of competent jurisdiction, the mayor and chief of police shall destroy the gambling implements captured in a raid. It has become the settled custom, however, for the court not to order the destruction of the paraphernalia, which is accordingly returned to the owners. In consequence there is a great public outcry against the business and the police order all proprietors to close their rooms. They comply for a few weeks, and then gaming is resumed, though at first on a small scale. They gradually grow bolder, until they very nearly reach the point where they conduct business with open doors. There is then another outcry,outcry, they are ordered to close and the whole process is repeated.

In all the gambling houses there is a sentinel, and unless the appearance of the applicant for admission is satisfactory he is not permitted to enter.

Probably another reason for the caution on the part of the gamblers is to be found in the stringent legislation against the vice. The law, of course, does not recognize the business as legitimate, and it is an easy matter for a loser to secure judgment for money lost, either before a petty magistrate or in a higher court. As a rule the gamblers settle before the cases are called for trial, and they have at times submitted to blackmail rather than appear in court.

Concerning the individual characteristics of Cleveland gamblers there is little to be said, few of them enjoying more than a local reputation.

Among the most prominent proprietors of gambling houses, George Randall is, perhaps, the best known, and is the nearest approach to the ideal professional gamester. He has just passed the meridian of life, and has an unusually pleasant countenance. His drooping mustache is barely tinged with gray. He is intelligent, good-natured, and of a quiet disposition. He is thoroughly “game,” and no man can lose with more nonchalance or win with an easier grace. He owns a gambling establishment in Saratoga, but has an interest in two “hells” in Cleveland. His fortune is estimated at $30,000.

As regards the extent of gambling in Cleveland, it may be said that four-fifths of the playing is done in eight establishments, in all of which the principal games are “faro,” “roulette” and “poker.” In each of those places the paraphernalia—that is, the gambling implements and furnishings—cost about $2,500. The total amount invested in the outfit of the gambling rooms is about $25,000. There are in nearly all cases two partners, three dealers, and a porter, who also acts as sentinel. The dealers receive from $20 to $30 per week; the rents range from $60 to $80 per month, and the gas bills average about $6 per week. Under the head of expenses should be included the fines assessed at the time of the annual raids, all of which are paid by the proprietors. The average expenses of the twelve gambling houses in the city may fairly be summarized as follows:

The amount of capital backing the establishments is about $80,000, of which faro has some $30,000, and roulette and poker the balance. There are about fifty employes. The profits during the past year have been, in the estimation of the best judges in the city, about $35,000. It has, however, been an unfortunate year for the fraternity, for, in addition to the losses already mentioned, one firm lost $6,000 in a month.

There are three semi-public poker clubs, of which the expenses are paid by the “rake off.” Besides these there are several private poker clubs, the members of which contribute all the money needed to maintain the rooms. A great deal of poker playing is also carried on in private rooms at various points throughout the city.

The Chinese laundrymen love to indulge in “fan-tan” and poker, and are inveterate gamesters. Many of them wear jasper rings on their left wrists “for luck.” They are in the habit of assembling in small parties in several localities, the main establishment being located at the corner of Seneca and Chaplain streets. The last mentioned place is also the headquarters of one of their secret societies. A police raid upon it, not many months ago, resulted in the capture of some twenty Celestials.

Policy playing is limited to two establishments. Each is conducted by the proprietor and one assistant, and they do a prosperous business. Their patrons are poor people, who are necessarily ignorant or they would not strive to overcome the heavy odds against their chance of winning. The patrons of the game invest about $1,500 per week in their effort to name the winning combination.

About $5,000 per month is invested in the Louisiana State Lottery. The local agent is the proprietor of a cigar store who maintains little secrecy, and even women and children figure among the patrons. The greater number of tickets are ordered by express or mail directly from New Orleans.

Gambling in stocks and grain is conducted through a few brokers who act as agents of the parties in New York and Chicago. They do a fair business, but it is not nearly so large as it was during the speculative craze a few years ago. They are understood to receive a commission of five per cent. Gamblers in Cleveland have never taken an active part in politics, their interest having been chiefly limited to wagers on the result of elections.

Police officials all unite in saying that little or no crime has been traced to gambling. One bank cashier embezzled nearly $1,000,000, and another about $80,000 to invest in stocks and wheat, but only one or two trifling defalcations have been traced to ordinary gambling. Recently a young man $200 short in his accounts disappeared, and he probably lost the money at roulette. A trusted employe ruined a prominent book firm, misusing perhaps $20,000; but business mismanagement and possibly other weaknesses combined with his fondness for poker to bring about his downfall.

There have undoubtedly been cases of embezzlement due to cards, however, that never became public. The laws against gambling have also made the proprietors cautious, and they are careful in permitting visitors to stake large sums. The gamblers, aside from a lot of “hangers on,” known as “shoestring” or “tin horn” gamblers, do not figure in the criminal records. Most of the latter exist on the earnings of prostitutes, and steal and gamble as a matter of course.

Before the war, the slave owner with wealth at his command, with his plantations overseered by trustworthy men, with his crops cultivated by his slaves, gradually became more and more indifferent to mercantile pursuits, and indeed, to any vocation involving actual work, of either mind or body, his main anxiety being to solve the question, how should he spend his money and live. Especially was this true before the advent of the railroad, when Mobile was the principal city in the State, the most easy of access on account of its rivers, and the focus of at least two-thirds of the entire wealth of Alabama. Gaming at that time in Mobile was almost universal, the sporting element being by far more gentlemanly, better educated, and in every respect more polished than are the men of that ilk to-day. Among the patrons of the race-course were such men as Wm. R. Johnson, Col. Sprague, “Wagner” Campbell; while the gamblers numbered in their ranks, Capt. Geo. Grant and Jack Delahaunty. As long as money poured into Mobile, that city was specially noted among the gambling fraternity for the high stakes wagered on horse-racing, and the amount risked on the turn of a card. Even when “the late unpleasantness” came on, substantially the same state of affairs existed, and what diminution there was in gaming among the residents, was more than counterbalanced by the prevalence of gambling among the soldiers of both armies during the war.

At this time a well known figure on the streets of Mobile, was Capt. Wm. H. Williamson. He was a Virginian by birth, of wealthy parents and educated as a gentleman. Early in life he settled in Alabama. He was exceedingly fond of horses, and generally devoted to sporting and was a frequenter of the races in Mobile, even up to a date within the last few years. He was one of the California “Forty-niners” and one of the witnesses of the famous Broderick-Terry duel, the story of which has recently been revived by the shooting of Judge Terry. Capt. Williamson was elected Chief of Police for two terms, holding that office during six years. It is fairness of play and unfailing courtesy rendered him popular, and he was one of the best types of the gamblers who, before the war, made Mobile their headquarters.

During the ante-bellum days “brace” games were either exceptional or not desirable. In fact they may be said to have been comparatively unknown in Mobile until after the occupancy of the city by the federal forces, when an army, estimated at 60,000, occupied the city and its immediate vicinity. With the advent of the camp followers, came sharp practices, and gambling revived in its most pernicious form.

From 1865 to 1872 this state of affairs continued. In the year 1873, Mobile having, like every other city in the Union, undergone the ordeal of a financial panic, which at that time swept over the country at large, was not a particularly favorable spot for the operations of gamblers. The laws of the State enacted about that time, moreover, were decidedly hostile to gambling. However, keno rooms and lotteries began to flourish, at the expense of poker, faro and roulette. Each successive legislature passed more stringent laws against gaming than had its predecessor, and public gambling almost ceased to exist. Simultaneously, however, with the advent of each new administration, some of the sporting fraternity, more venturesome than others, attempted to run keno, faro and poker rooms. Yet the popular demand for the enforcement of the laws was so loud, and the sentences of the court so severe, that at present gambling in Mobile is conducted with the utmost secrecy, and every precaution is taken to avoid police interference.

During the decade between 1870 and 1880 lotteries flourished. A test case was made up against A. J. Moses, and its determination temporarily put a stop to them all. At present lottery tickets are exposed for sale with great caution, the grand jury presenting a true bill against the venders, so far as the latter can be ascertained, two or three times a year, notwithstanding the fact that they usually turn their wheels in some place outside the city limits.

It was during the period between 1875 and 1880 that “Bud” Reneau, who has since figured so prominently in sporting circles, particularly as one of the managers of the Sullivan-Kilrain fight, began to attract attention as a member of local sporting clubs. His handsome figure and courtly manners always made him a favorite wherever he went. He has retained for his native place an affection which years of absence have not lessened, and his purse has always been open to the needy of his own city.

The sporting element has repeatedly essayed to influence elections in Mobile, but it cannot be said that their efforts have been rewarded with success, the policy of each municipal administration having been uniformly against gambling.

Among the negroes, “craps” is greatly in vogue, and there are but few terms of the courts in which indictments for “crap shooting” are not more numerous than for almost any other violation of the gambling laws. This description of gaming is almost exclusively confined to the colored population, and the prosecution of the offense is perhaps not retarded by the fact that the solicitor receives $150 for each conviction, as against $37.50 for other classes of misdemeanors.

The court enjoys the discretion in the case of conviction under the gambling laws, of either inflicting a fine, or sentencing the offender to the coal mines or both. As a rule, the sentence in the case of managers of lotteries has been a fine of $100 and solicitors fees $150 and costs of court which has resulted in the collection for the city of nearly ten thousand dollars per year from this source. At present, between the laws against gambling and the perseverance of the solicitor in keeping an eye on all the resorts of the gamblers it may be said that gambling is at the lowest possible ebb in Mobile. The enforcement of the laws by the grand juries has made things so unpleasant for the blacklegs that gradually they have been compelled to leave the city, either to avoid trials by the courts or to seek more profitable fields.

Early in 1877 the “Pool Room” or “Turf Exchange” made its appearance in Mobile. Undoubtedly this has proved the most pernicious of all forms of gambling. It grew rapidly in favor and lured many young men to destruction and dishonor. The evil was so great that a few citizens appealed to the Legislature in the spring of 1889 for the passage of a bill prohibiting pool selling which, up to that time, had not been covered by the State laws against gambling. The new bill had the novel feature in it that it compelled the municipal authorities of the various cities of the State to execute this law, and gave them jurisdiction, for that purpose, for five miles outside the corporate limits. The law was so carefully framed that the “Turf Exchange” men surrendered without a fight, and quit the State in a body.

McMaster, in his “History of the People of the United States” quoting from the historian Ramsay, and several European travelers, says: “Betting and gambling were, with drunkenness and a passion for dueling and running in debt, the chief sins of the Carolina Gentleman.” This was about 1791. Charleston was then and for many years afterwards as much South Carolina as Paris is France. “Already the city was a great commercial centre. At its wharves might have been seen, almost any day, scores of vessels laden with every article of luxury or use Great Britain could supply. In the hands of her subjects was all the trade and all the commerce of the State. To own a ship, to keep a shop, to do any of those things done by merchants and traders, was in the opinion of a Carolina planter, degrading. The master spent his time in the enjoyment of such festivities as Charleston could afford. There he lived in a fine house, gave fine dinners, went to the theatre to see Mrs. Rawson, or to the circus to see Mr. Ricketts; subscribed to the assembly, joined the Hell-fire club or the Ugly club, or the Mount Zion Society, and rode his favorite horse at the races.”

Irving’s history of the turf in South Carolina, shows that the Jockey Club in Charleston was probably the oldest in the Union, and while at its annual meetings betting was not as common or as heavy as elsewhere, and the prizes were more frequently plate than money, yet the early popularity of horse racing indicates of necessity a passion for betting as well as for its alleged object, the improvement of the breeds of horses.

The early narratives give two notes of interest to the student of gambling, one before, and the other after, the Revolution, neither of which is cited by McMaster.

Johnson in his “Traditions of the Revolution” tells of the visit of Lord Anson, the well known British naval commander, to Charleston, about the year 1733. He was hospitably received by the citizens, among them, Thomas Gadsen, the King’s collector for the province. Lord Anson’s passion for gaming was such that he had been censured for even winning money from his humble midshipmen. Mr. Gadsen (who had formerly been a Lieutenant in the British Navy) played with his lordship, lost a large sum of money, and paid the debt of honor by giving him titles for all those lands which to this day (1840) bear the designation of Ansonborough. It was that portion of Charleston between Boundary and Laurens Street, extending eastwardly from Anson street to the channel of Cooper River. These valuable lands which now constitute a large section of the city were afterwards purchased from Lord Anson by General Christopher Gadsen, the distinguished soldier and statesman of the Revolution, and a son of the King’s collector, Thomas Gadsen, the unlucky gamester.

The other reference to the gambling habits of the time is that of the Duke de La Rochefaucault Liancourt, who visited Charleston about 1798. He says: “The French planters and commanders of the privateers differ widely in their political opinions, but the love of gaming reconciles them all, and in the French gaming houses, which are very numerous in Charleston, aristocracy and sans culottes mix in friendly intercourse and indiscriminately surround the tables. It is asserted that they play very high.” From which it appears that the gambling table was then, as now, a great leveler.

Newspaper advertisements and a few traditions are all that exist to show the history of the gaming table from the times of La Rochefaucault to the present day. Rich planters still kept up and encouraged horse racing at the courses in Charleston and throughout the state, as the records of the Jockey club show, though, as intimated before, the improvement of horse-flesh rather than betting was the main object. Faro banks undoubtedly existed in Charleston, but they were not so numerous nor as well patronized as they are to-day. Undoubtedly there was considerable private gambling, chiefly poker, and there are stories of large and valuable plantations changing hands over a card table in a single night.

The most widespread and approved gambling was the lottery. We read that in the year 1800 Denmark Vesey, the notorious mulatto who planned, organized, and almost brought to a successful condition, the great negro insurrection of 1822, bought his freedom with $600 of a $1,500 prize won in the “East Bay (local) Lottery,” and the newspapers of Charleston about 1814 show three lottery advertisements, one to build a college in Beaufort, another to build a Presbyterian and another to build an Episcopal church in Charleston.

In 1844 the lottery craze was at its height, and as much as thirty thousand dollars was occasionally drawn at the weekly drawings of the South Carolina Lottery which were held at the City Hall. The City and State levied no license and it appears that the community favored the enterprise. J. S. Gregory & Co. of Baltimore, the great lottery managers, employed agents in this city, and their agents, Messrs. Gatewood & Cochran, were highly esteemed citizens, whose reputation and social standing were not in the least affected by their occupations.

The foregoing clipping from the Charleston Courier of April 13, 1844, will give some idea of the “schemes” and of the extent of the business.

The most notorious case of ante-bellum losing, at a sitting, took place at the old Charleston Club House. The parties were Motte A. Pringle of an old aristocratic family, and Mr. Bunch the British Consul at Charleston. Mr. Bunch, who was a good deal of a sharper, professed to know nothing of the game of “grab,” and Pringle offered to teach him the game. When they arose from the table Pringle owed Bunch $10,000. Pringle told his father (who was a prominent business man in the city) the next morning, and the old gentleman recognizing it as a debt of honor, gave him the money, and it was promptly paid over to Bunch the next day. At the Charleston Club, frequented by professional men and cotton merchants, there are two sets of poker players, with limits of $50 and $200 respectively. The proportion of poker playing members is not large and I have never heard of but one man squandering all his means (almost $30,000) there. This was a present member of the Charleston bar, and it took him almost ten years to do it. The other club is the Queen City Club, which is more of a poker club than anything else and where men occasionally lose and win as much as $2,000 in a night. No professional is allowed there, but it is the favorite resort of the non-professional poker player of the city.

The Otranto Club (chiefly lawyers) owns a beautiful villa about sixteen miles from the city, where they have six or eight meetings a year, and I understand play a pretty stiff game of poker. Hunting and good eating are, however, the main delight at Otranto.

There are in Charleston a Merchants’ Exchange, consisting mainly of wholesale grocers and produce brokers; a Cotton Exchange; a Phosphate Miners’ Exchange and a Chamber of Commerce.

At the opening of the Cotton Exchange, about twelve years ago, one hundred bales of cotton futures were sold from the floor. This is the only transaction of the kind that has ever taken place in this city. About ninety per cent. of the cotton shippers of Charleston sell futures in New York against their shipments to the United Kingdom and the continent. There are two gentlemen, Lee Howard and E. H. Priolean, who, as agents for New York firms, sell futures in cotton, but their business has decreased very much in late years, and amounts to very little.

There never have been any futures sold at the Merchants’ Exchange, though some of its members occasionally speculate a little in grain and pork futures in the Chicago market. The Phosphate Exchange is little more than a pool among phosphate rock miners, and does no “future” selling or buying.

The Chamber of Commerce, the oldest commercial body in the South, does no business whatever in “futures.”

The Legislature of South Carolina in 1883 passed an act “to declare unlawful contracts for the sale of articles for future delivery made under certain circumstances and to provide the remedy in such cases.” No case has ever come to the State Supreme Court under this act, and it is considered merely as declarative of the common law.

There are at present five “policy” offices, with agents or “vendors” scattered throughout the city, the large majority of the vendors being negroes.

The business was first started here about 1871, when Horbach, a gambler and bar-keeper, Willoughby, a corrupt politician, and others obtained a charter, under the title of “The Charleston Charitable Association,” and did a large and lucrative “policy” business until March, 1875, when the act was repealed.

The present five “companies” are modeled after the Charleston Charitable Association, though they do business on a far less scale, as they are prohibited by law. The drawings are conducted squarely, the chances in favor of the gambler being tremendous, and one of the managers is authority for the statement that the net profits amount to 33 per cent. of the gross receipts. The system is probably the same as elsewhere. Seventy-eight numbers are put into a wheel, and twelve are withdrawn by a little negro, blindfolded. Drawings take place at two and six o’clock every day, except Sunday, and are held at the main offices, three of which are in Market Street. Some few negroes are allowed in the room during the drawing, which is always conducted behind a screen, or door ajar, for the noise of a crowd would necessarily attract the attention of the police, who wink at the proceedings. The policy shops, like faro banks, are seldom pulled; the only instance in the last three years being the raiding of Syke Thorne’s den on Market Street, two months ago; and this would not have happened had not Thorne run a dance hall, bar-room and “chuck-a-luck” in connection with his policy shop. Negroes compose fully 70 per cent. of the patrons of the policy shops. Their general play is for five or ten cents, and their winnings never exceed $50 on a single ticket, though the limit of all the policy companies is $500. A few white printers, clerks and occasionally a gentleman with a passion for gambling will invest two or three dollars in a single drawing, and buy to the limit. The companies have never had any very great losses since the closing up of the Charleston Charitable Association, which was sometimes ‘struck’ for large amounts. The combinations played are as follows:

The following are two policy tickets bought a few day ago. The size and form of the other policy tickets in this city are very nearly similar, and these will give an idea of what they are all like. They cost ten cents each and were bought of a vendor who has a desk in a large old paper and rag store in the rear of, and about 30 feet from the door of the U. S. Post-office in Charleston.

The “policy shops” and their proprietors are as follows:

“Pool,” proprietors Jas. F. Walsh and —— Conner.

“The Only Genuine,” proprietors W. K. Brown and Thomas Finley.

“Little Havana,” proprietor J. C. Jaudon.

“Palmetto,” proprietor Syke Thorne.

James F. Walsh is a wholesale liquor dealer. He has never kept a gambling house; is rated by Dunn or Bradstreet at $40,000 to $75,000; credit high; takes an active but silent part in politics; occasionally goes to a political convention, but has never run for office; is on the official bonds of the Probate Judge, Recorder of Mesne Conveyance, County Treasurer and (probably) Coroner of Charleston County. Though apparently of mild manner and address, he has killed two men; one a mulatto, for which murder he was tried and convicted, but soon bought a pardon from Moses, the robber Governor of South Carolina; the other was the killing of a brother Irishman, for which he was tried and acquitted with a verdict of self defense, which verdict created great talk in the city, it being in the opinion of the general public a clear case of manslaughter.

J. C. Jaudon is a bar-keeper near the S. C. Railway depot, worth with his brothers about $5,000; not rated in the commercial agencies—has only started “policy” this year. Syke Thorne is the most notorious mulatto gambler in the State. He has a bar-room, dancing hall patronized by abandoned women, “policy shops,” and several “chuck-a-luck” and small “faro” tables on Market Street, between King and Archdale Streets. He was “pulled” by the police recently, but though “lying low,” is again in the business. He is probably worth $5,000. In person he is good looking, dresses well, and is quiet mannered. He has never taken any prominent part in politics.

The faro banks and bankers of the city are as follows:

Finley and Brown, 78 Meeting Street; faro, roulette and poker; dealers Dowling and Neisz. Elegantly furnished.

Charles F. Levy; faro, roulette, mustang and poker; dealers Conners and Levy. Although the finest rooms in town, they are temporarily closed for want of funds. Powers (M. W.) a well-known young Irish contractor and builder, holds the bank bill roll.

John Munro and Israel; roulette and faro; Munro and Israel, dealers. Neat but not gaudy appointments.

W. J. O’Dell and a partner; two faro tables, roulette and poker. Handsomely furnished.

A. M. Flynn, assisted by a woman who joins in the poker game, and occasionally deals faro.

Syke Thorne, with several negro assistants. Very small game at very mean tables.

As to whether the games are “skin” or “square” it may be said that any one of the Charleston dealers will put up a game on a drunken man with a large bank roll; but there are probably two of those dealers who will try to “skin” any and everybody.

Finley and Brown is probably the strongest backed house in the city, and it is not improbable that F. & B. back O’Dell, as he is not known to have much money of his own, and he deals at Brown’s old stand and in his building. Levy and Connor got temporarily to the end of their financial rope some months ago and have not resumed business yet. Munro and Israel do not play a very heavy game and would probably shut down after a loss of $400. They have no backers unless since very recently. Thomas Finley, the king of the gamblers, was a tinner by trade and took to the green cloth and occasional horse racing about 1858. He owns considerable real estate and is generally supposed to be worth between $30,000 and $50,000. He is the ideal gambler as far as liberality goes, and is exceedingly popular. He is generous and open-hearted and for ten years furnished all the coal for the use of the Seamdies Church; is not particularly smart except at his business; and has never been known to have had anything to do with politics, except to contribute to the campaign fund. He very rarely, if ever, deals faro, but plays considerable poker for small stakes. He is said to have won $15,000 betting on a recent Congressional election.

W. K. Brown is a butcher by trade and still continues at the business. He dealt faro for many years while running his stall in the market, but is seldom seen now in a gambling room and is very close and shrewd. His partner in the meat business is a very prominent Republican politicianpolitician and is now U. S. Marshal for South Carolina. Brown has never run for office and is probably too close to spend money for his friends’ political aspirations. He is married and has several very handsome children. Is supposed to be worth $50,000, which he inherited from relatives in England two years ago.

John Munro is the oldest gambler in the city and is about as honest as a gambler can be; is now poor, having been ruined by a reckless partner in Savannah some years ago. Has had several fortunes and spent almost as many years and dollars in ’Frisco as he has in Charleston.

The other dealers whose names are mentioned are all young men and Charlestonians, except Neisz, who is an Alsatian Jew. They have not made much money or reputation as yet. The most notorious of them is Charles F. Levy, the enfant perdu of a very respectable Jewish family. He shot a man in a bar-room brawl some years ago, and Levy’s neck was in considerable danger, but the man eventually recovered. Levy has squandered about $15,000, left him by his grandfather, in about three years. He is utterly without principle and is one of the best rifle shots in Charleston.

In conclusion, it may be said that gambling has been on the decrease for the last thirteen years in Charleston, except, possibly, in the small matter of “policy” buying among the negroes. Plenty of money was in the hands of the very class of men who would spend it over the faro and poker table during the years of misrule—1868 to 1876. One of the judges of the State at that time is reported to have been an ex-faro bank dealer and was certainly a great devotee of the game.game.

The only great business defalcation publicly known to have been caused by the passion for gaming was that of Bentham R. Caldwell, of a highly respectable family of the city, who in the year 1879 misappropriated $75,000, and expended it over the faro tables of Finley and Brown. Suit was brought and the case was carried to the Supreme Court qui-tam action brought by the plaintiff as a common informer to recover the penalty under sections 6 and 7 of the 79th chapter of the Revised Statutes of South Carolina, but the gamblers ruled the roast, as may be seen by referring to the case of Augustus S. Trumbo vs. Finley and Brown, as reported in the 18th (or possibly 20th) S. C. Law Reports (Strand’s), which probably can be found in any large law library.