"Poor Camille!"

Snowflakes, light and fluffy, powdered impudently, last week, the Sovereign Principality of Monaco. A bleak sea breeze whipped in across the Casino terrace, whining up long avenues of shivering palms. At the gaming rooms warmth and pulsing chance continued to abide--for business is business--but in a private room at the Casino de Paris, nearby a group of solemn diners pushed back their chairs, lifted their glasses slowly, and drank a last deep toast to "Poor Camille!"

M. Camille Blanc, who died last week at Nice a pitiable paralytic, was for almost four decades the absolute autocrat of the Casino enterprises which were founded at Monte Carlo in 1861 by his father, the picturesque Francois Blanc. Francois, originally a petty sharper, first embarked upon legalized gambling with a small casino at Hamburg. Shrewd, he realized early that complete liberty to mulct the devotees of chance would never be given him under the laws of a land so large as Germany. What he sought was some tiny state which could become the vassal of a great casino. He "discovered" Monaco. He "made" it. He lived to become "Pere" Blanc to a dependent little world of gamblers; and, because he "dearly loved a lord," he married his daughter Louise to Prince Leon Radziwill and his daughter Marie Antoinette to Prince Roland Bonaparte. To his son, Camille, he bequeathed his empire of roulette and baccarat.

Like many a man to whom a crown has fallen, Camille Blanc proved outwardly equal to his responsibilities but suffered a disintegration of the soul. The process was slow, and not until just before the War could it be said with certainty that he was the total slave of "The Pompadour of Monte Carlo," Mme. Chinon, a lady who had been an acrobat.

Of Mme. Chinon more stories are told than can possibly be true. Authentic is the fact that Camille allowed her to borrow from the Casino company huge sums wherewith to play at its tables. If she lost, her loan was considered automatically repaid, since the money went back to the source from which it came. If she won--tant mieux!--the winnings of Madame were naturally her own.

So potent grew the entrenched corruption at Monte Carlo that it was shaken only when a new prince came to the throne of Monaco in 1922. He, Prince Louis II, waited quietly until (a twelvemonth after his ascension) he was offered only $2,000,000 as his share in the year's casino profits. Then, with virtuous wrath, he sent his own auditors, flanked by police, to examine the books of the Casino company--La Societe des Bains de Mer et Circle des Etrangers de Monaco.

What the auditors found out caused Prince Louis to declare: "It is my earnest wish to abolish gambling at Monte Carlo. ... I have uncovered an incredible condition of affairs at the Casino. ... I solemnly promise my people that they will soon be relieved of the dreadful situation of living off other people's misfortunes. Monte Carlo has come near breaking my heart."

Towering in his rage, Prince Louis II summoned Camille Blanc. That wretched man, as he stuttered in terror before the Prince, was actually stricken with paralysis. Unappeased, His Highness banished Camille Blanc forever from Monaco. Therefor "Poor Camille" died, last week, at Nice, 15 miles distant.

The citizens of Monaco have, of course, long since persuaded their sovereign that they prefer to live in the "dreadful situation" of people whose taxes are entirely paid by foreigners with a taste for losing money. The Casino enterprises have, however, been officially "purged" of graft, and the present concession has been extended only until 1947. After that Prince Louis II may perhaps abolish gambling and achieve his "earnest wish."