"In the centre of the apartment stands the all-attractive Hazard Table, innocent and unpretending enough in its form and appearance, but fatally mischievous and destructive in its conjunctive influence with box and dice. On this table it may with truth be asserted that the greater portion, if not the whole of Crockford's immense wealth was achieved; and for this piece of plain, unassuming mahogany he had doubtless a more profound veneration than for the most costly piece of furniture that ever graced a palace."

"This bench of business is large, and of oval shape, well stuffed, and covered with fine green cloth, marked with yellow lines, denoting the different departments of speculation. Round these compartments are double lines, similarly marked, for the odds or proportions between what is technically known as the main and chance. In the centre on each side are indented positions for the croupiers, or persons engaged at the table in calling the main and chance, regulating the stakes, and paying and receiving money as the events decisive of gain and loss occur."

"Over the table is suspended a three-light lamp, conveniently shaded, so as to throw its full luminous power on the cloth, and at the same time to protect the eyes of the croupiers from the light's too strong effect. At another part of the room is fixed a writing-table or desk, where the Pluto of the place was wont to preside, to mete out loans on draft or other security, and to answer all demands by successful players. Chairs of ease make, dice boxes, bowls for holding counters representing sums from 1 to 200, with small hand-rakes used by players to draw their counters from any inconvenient distance on the table, may be said to complete the furniture, machinery, and implements of this great workshop."
-Bently's Miscellany, quoted in Hell & Hazard.

The overall atmosphere of the hazard room was one of quiet decorum. No distractions that might interrupt the concentration of the players were allowed. No servants were allowed to enter the room once the game had begun. Smoking was not allowed, in fact Crockford's did not have a smoking room. Crockford himself would be seated at a desk in one corner of the room, and in the opposite corner was his "Groomporter", or "inspector." This was Mr. Page, who supervised the hazard table as a form of auditor, and debt collector, with a small rake he used to gather in, or paid out, the stakes made by the gamblers. Iit was essential that his impartiality was accepted fact among the players, and even Crockford did not overrule his decisions. He was said to have been paid 50 guineas per week.¹ It was also his duty to be sure that the pace of game remained brisk and exciting -continually seducing the players.

A tradition that Crockford began in his club from the start, was that food and drink were "on the house" for the players in the Hazard room. A coffee, or supper room was attached to the game rule through a grand vestibule. The table was resplendent with a cold buffet consisting of the finest dishes created by in-house French chef.

While the profits to be made from the Hazard room were considerable, the overhead² was equally large. The cold dinner cost about £50, to put on each night. A minimum of 3 fresh pairs of the finest ivory dice were provided for each night's gaming. These ran a guinea a pair, and Crockford's total annual costs for dice was around £2,000 per year. The member's committee of the club had a standing agreement with Crockford that he had to put down a bank of at least £5,000 nightly while parliament was in session (When parliament was in recess, a smaller downstairs rooms was used for hazard, and the bank was smaller. -Presumably a number of his members who played "deep" were in town most often while attending parliament.) Crockford was not allowed to close down the game unless the entire £5,000 had be lost by the house.