Chapter II: Engravings (7)

In the ninth century, the German organ-makers acquired great renown. The monk Gerbert, who, as we have already remarked, became pope under the name of Sylvester II., and co-operated so efficiently in the progress of the horological art, established in the monastery of which he was abbot a workshop for the manufacture of organs. We must add, that all the musical treatises written from the ninth to the twelfth century entered into very considerable details concerning the arrangement and working of this instrument. Nevertheless, the admission of the organ into churches did not fail to meet with earnest opponents among the bishops and priests of the day. But while some complained of the thunder and rumbling of the organs, others appealed to the examples of king David and the prophet Elisha. Finally, in the thirteenth century, the right of placing organs in all churches was no longer disputed, and the only question was, who could build the most powerful and most magnificent instruments. At Milan was an organ the pipes of which were of silver; at Venice some were made of pure gold. The number of these pipes was varied and multiplied to an infinite extent, according to the effects the instrument was required to produce. The mechanism was, generally speaking, rather complicated, and the working of the bellows very laborious. In large organs the key-board was made up of key-plates five or six inches wide, which the organist, his hands defended by thickly padded gloves, had to strike with his clenched fist in order to bring out the notes (Fig. 171).

The organ, which, as we have seen, was at first of a portable nature, in some cases resumed its original dimensions (Fig. 172). It was then sometimes called simply _portatif_ (hand-organ), and sometimes _régale_ or _positif_ (choir-organ). Raphael, in one of his famous pictures, represents St. Cecilia singing sacred hymns, and accompanying herself on a choir-organ.

The class of pulsatile instruments was formed of bells, cymbals, and drums.

There can be no doubt that the ancients were acquainted with large bells, hand-bells, and strung-bells (_grelots_). But we must ascribe to the requirements of Christian worship the first introduction of the bell, properly so called, formed of cast-metal (_campana_ or _nola_, the first having been made, it is said, at Nola), which was employed from the first in summoning the faithful to the public services. In the first instance the bell was merely held in the hand and shaken by some monk or ecclesiastic who stood in front of the church-door, or mounted a raised platform for the purpose. This _tintinnabulum_ (Fig. 173), or portable bell, subsequently passed into the hands of the public criers, the societies of ringers, and those who rang knells for the dead, at a time when most of the churches were provided with _campaniles_ or bell-towers, wherein were hung the parish bells, which daily assumed dimensions of increasing importance. These great bells, of which the _Saufang_ of Cologne (sixth century) is an example (Fig. 174), were at first made of wrought-iron plates laid one over the other, and riveted together. But in the eighth century they began to cast bells of copper and even of silver. One of the most ancient still existing is that in the tower of Bisdomini at Siena (Fig. 175). It bears the date of 1159, and is formed in the shape of a cask, being rather more than a yard high: the sound it produces is very sharp. The combination of several bells of various sizes naturally produced the peal or chime; this at first consisted of an arch of wood or iron whereon were suspended the bells, which the player struck with a small hammer (Fig. 176). The number and classification of the bells becoming subsequently rather more complicated, the hand of the chimer was superseded by a mechanical arrangement. This was the origin of those peals of bells for which there was such a demand in the Middle Ages, and of which certain towns are still so proud.

The designations of _cymbalum_ and _flagellum_ were, in the first instance, applied to small hand-chimes; but there were also regular cymbals (_cymbala_ or _acetabula_), spherical or hollowed plates of silver, brass, or copper. Some of these were shaken at the ends of the fingers, or fastened to the knees or feet, so as to be put in motion by the movement of the body. These small cymbals, or _crotales_, were a kind of rattle (_grelots_), causing the dancers to make a noise in their performance, as do the Spanish castanets, which in the sixteenth century were called in France _maronnettes_, and were the same as the _cliquettes_, or snappers, used by lepers in former days. Small strung-bells became so much the fashion at a certain epoch that not only was the harness of horses adorned with them, but they were suspended to the clothes both of men and women, who at the slightest movement made a ringing, tinkling noise, sounding like so many perambulating chimes.

The use of pulsatile instruments producing a metallic sound increased greatly in Europe, especially after the return from the Crusades. But even before this date the Egyptian timbrel was used in religious and festival music; this instrument was composed of a circle whereon rings were hung, which tinkled as they struck together when the timbrel was shaken. The Oriental triangle was also used on these occasions; this was almost the same then as it is at the present day.

The drum has always been a hollow case covered with a stretched skin, but the shape and size of this instrument have caused great variations in its name, and also in the way in which it was used. In the Middle Ages it was called _taborellus_, _tabornum_, and _tympanum_. It generally made its appearance in festal music, and especially in processions; but it was not until the fourteenth century that it began to take a place in military bands, at least in France; the Arabians, however, have used it from the earliest ages. In the thirteenth century the _taburel_ was a kind of tambourine, played on with only a drum-stick; in the _tabornum_ we may recognise the military drum of the present day; and the _tympanum_ was equivalent to our tambourine. Sometimes, as seen in a sculpture in the Musicians’ Hall at Rheims, this instrument was attached to the right shoulder of the performer, who played upon it by striking it with his head, while at the same time he blew through two metal flutes communicating with the inside of the drum (Fig. 177).

We have now to speak of stringed instruments, the whole of which may be divided into three principal classes: those played on by the fingers, those that are struck, and those which are rubbed (_frottées_) by means of some appliance.

As a matter of fact, there are some stringed instruments which may be said to belong to all three of these classes, as all three modes of playing upon them has been adopted either simultaneously or in succession.

The most ancient are doubtless those that are played on by the fingers, first among which, in right of its antiquity, we must name the lyre; from this have sprung the cithern, the harp, the psaltery, the _nabulon_, &c. In the Middle Ages, however, considerable confusion arose from the fact that these original names were at the time often diverted from their real acceptation.

The lyre, the stringed instrument _par excellence_ of the Greeks and Romans, preserved its primitive form as late as the tenth century. The strings were generally of twisted gut, but sometimes also of brass wire, and varied in number from three to eight. The sounding-box, which was always placed at the lower part of the instrument, was more often made of wood than of either metal or tortoise-shell (Fig. 178).

The lyre was held upon the knees, and the performer touched or rubbed the strings with one hand, either with the fingers or by means of a _plectrum_. The lyre specified as “Northern” (Fig. 179), was certainly the origin of the violin, to the shape of which it even then bore some resemblance; it was fastened at the top, and had a _cordier_ at the end of the sounding-board, as well as a bridge in the centre of the face of the instrument.

The lyre was superseded by the psaltery and the cithern. The psaltery, which never was furnished with fewer than ten, or more than twenty, strings, differed essentially from the lyre and the cithern by the sounding-board being placed at the top of the instrument. Psalteries were made of a round, square, oblong, or buckler-shaped form (Fig. 181); and sometimes the sounding-box was lengthened so as to rest upon the shoulder of the musician (Fig. 180). The psaltery disappeared in the tenth century and gave place to the cithern (_cithara_), a name which had been at first applied to all kinds of stringed instruments. The shape of the cithern, which in the days of St. Jerome resembled a Greek _delta_ (Δ), varied in different countries, as is proved by the epithets--_barbarica_, _Teutonica_, _Anglica_, which we find at different times coupled with its generic name. In other places, in consequence of these local transformations, it became the _nabulum_, the _chorus_, and the _salterion_ or _psalterion_ (which latter must not be confounded with the psaltery, a primary derivative of the lyre).

The _nabulum_[23] (Fig. 182) was made either in the shape of a triangle with truncated corners, or of a semicircle joined at the two extremities; its sounding-board occupied the whole of the rounded part, and left but a very limited space for the twelve strings. The _chorus_ or _choron_, the imperfect representation of which in the manuscripts of the ninth and tenth centuries calls to mind the appearance of a long semicircular window or of a Gothic capital N, generally had one of its sides prolonged, on which the performer leaned so as to hold the instrument in the same way as a harp (Fig. 183).

The _psalterion_, which was in use all over Europe after the twelfth century, and is thought to have originated in the East, where it was found by the Crusaders, was at first composed of a flat box of sounding wood, with two oblique sides; it assumed the shape of a triangle truncated at its top, with twelve or sixteen metallic strings either of gold or silver, which were played upon by means of a small bow of wood, ivory, or horn (Fig. 184); subsequently the strings were made more slender, the number being increased to as many as twenty-two; the three angles of the sounding-box were cut off, and holes were made, sometimes one only in the middle, sometimes one at each angle, and sometimes as many as five, symmetrically arranged. The performer placed the instrument against his chest, and held it so as to touch the strings either with the fingers of the two hands, or with a pen or _plectrum_ (Fig. 185). This instrument, which in the representations of poets and painters never failed to figure in celestial concerts, produced tones of incomparable softness. The old romances of chivalry exhausted all the phrases of admiration in describing the _psalterion_. But the highest eulogium which can be passed on this instrument is that it formed the starting-point of the harpsichord, or of the stringed instruments struck or played on by means of mechanism.

It is, in fact, thought that a kind of harpsichord with four octaves, which in the fourteenth century was called _dulcimer_ or _dulcemelos_, and is but imperfectly described, was nothing else than a _psalterion_, with a sounding apparatus that assumed the proportions of a large box, to which also a key-board had been adapted. This instrument, when it had but three octaves, was called _clavicord_ or _manicordion_, and in the sixteenth century produced forty-two to fifty tones or semi-tones: one string expressed several notes, and this was effected by means of plates of metal which, serving as a movable bridge to each string, either increased or diminished the intensity of its vibration. The grand-pianos of the present day unquestionably have their key-boards placed in the same position as they were in the _dulcimer_ and _clavicorde_. The earliest improvements in metallic stringed instruments constructed with a key-board are due to the Italians; these improvements soon had the effect of throwing the _psalterion_ into oblivion.

In the ninth century a stringed instrument was in use the mechanism of which, although not very perfect, evidently tended to an imitation of the key-board applied to organs: this was the _organistrum_ (Fig. 186), an enormous guitar pierced with two sound holes, and provided with three strings set in vibration by a small winch; eight movable screws, rising or falling at will along the finger-board, formed so many keys which served to vary the tones. In the first instance two persons performed on the _organistrum_--one turning the winch while the other touched the keys. When its size was decreased it became the _vielle_ (hurdy-gurdy) properly so called, which could be managed by one musician. It was at first called _rubelle_, _rebel_, and _symphonie_; subsequently this last name was corrupted into _chifonie_ and _sifonie_, and we may remark that even now in certain districts of central France the _vielle_ still bears the popular name of _chinforgne_. The _chifonie_ never found a place in musical concerts, and fell almost immediately into the hands of the mendicants, who solicited alms accompanied by the doleful and somewhat discordant notes of this instrument, and thence obtaining the name of _chifoniens_.

Notwithstanding all the efforts which were made to substitute wheels and key-boards for the action of the fingers on the strings of instruments, still those that were played on by the hand only, such as harps and lutes, did not fail to maintain the preference among skilful musicians.

The harp was certainly Saxon in its origin, although some have imagined they could discover traces of it in Greek, Roman, and even Egyptian antiquities. This instrument was at first nothing but a triangular cithern (Fig. 187), in which the sounding-board occupied the whole of one side from top to bottom, instead of being limited to the lower angle, as in the primitive _cithara_, or confined to the upper part as in the psaltery. The English harp (_cithara Anglica_) of the ninth century differed but little from the modern instrument; the simplicity and good judgment shown in its shape bear witness to the perfection it had already attained (Fig. 188). The number of strings and the shape of this instrument varied constantly from time to time. The sounding-box was sometimes made square, sometimes elongated, and sometimes round. The arms were sometimes straight and sometimes curved; the upper side was often lengthened so as to represent an animal’s head (Fig. 189) and the lower angle, on which the instrument rested on the ground, terminated in a griffin’s claw. According to the miniatures in manuscripts, the harp was of a size that the top of it did not extend higher than the head of the performer, who played upon it in a sitting posture (Fig. 190). There were, however, harps of a lighter character, which the musician bore suspended from his neck by a strap, and played upon while standing up. This portable harp was the one that may _par excellence_ be called noble, and was the instrument on which the _trouvères_ accompanied their voices when reciting ballads and metrical tales (Fig. 191). In the romances of chivalry harpers are constantly introduced, and their harps are ever tuned to some lay of love or war; we find this taking place as well in the north as in the south. “The harp,” says Guillaume de Machaut--

“tous instruments passe,
Quand sagement bien en joue et compasse.”

In the sixteenth century, however, it began to fall into disfavour; it was supplanted by the lute (Fig. 192), an instrument much used in the thirteenth century, and by the guitar, which was brought into fashion in France from Spain and Italy, and formed the delight both of the court and private circles. At that time every great lord, imitating kings and princesses, wished to have his lute or guitar player, and the poet Bonaventure des Périers, _valet de chambre_ of Marguerite de Navarre, composed for her “La Manière de bien et justement entoucher les Lucs et Guiternes.” The lute and the guitar, which for about two centuries were in high favour in what was called “chamber music,” have since the above-named epoch scarcely been altered in shape. With certain modifications, however, they gave rise to the _theorbo_ and the _mandolin_, which never attained more than a transient or local favour.

Stringed instruments that were played on by means of bows were not known before the fifth century, and belonged to the northern races; they did not become prevalent in Europe generally until after the Norman invasion. At first they were but roughly made and rendered indifferent service to musical art; but from the twelfth to the sixteenth century, these instruments were subject to many changes both in form and name, and were brought to perfection according as the execution of musicians also improved. The most ancient of these instruments is the _crout_ (Fig. 193), which must have produced the _rote_, so dear to the minstrels and the _trouvères_ of the thirteenth century. The _crout_, which is the instrument placed by tradition in the hands of the Armorican, Breton, and Scotch bards,[24] was composed of an oblong sounding-box, more or less hollowed out at the two sides, with a handle fixed in the body of the instrument, in which were made two openings that allowed the performer to hold it by the left hand and at the same time to touch the strings; these, as a matter of principle, were only three in number. Subsequently it had four strings, and then six--two of which were played open (_à vide_). The musician played on it with a straight or convex bow, provided with a single thread either of iron wire or of twisted hair. Except in England, where the _crout_ was national, it did not last beyond the eleventh century. It was replaced by the _rote_, which was not, as its name (apparently derived from _rota_, a wheel) would seem to intimate, a _vielle_ or _symphonie_. It would be useless to seek for the derivation of the name of _rota_, except in the word _crotta_, the Latin form of the term _crout_.

In the earliest _rotes_ (Fig. 194), those made in the thirteenth century, there is an evident intention of combining the two modes of playing on the strings--rubbing with a bow and touching with the fingers. The box, which was not hollowed out and rounded at the two ends, was much deeper at the lower end, where the strings commenced, than higher up, near the pegs, where these strings are sounded open under the action of the finger, which reaches them through an aperture; the bow acting on them near the string-bridge in front of the sounding-holes. It must have been difficult to touch with the bow one string alone, but it should be remarked that the harmonic ideal of this instrument consisted in forming accords by consonances of thirds, fifths, and eighths. The _rote_ was soon developed into a new instrument, assuming the form that our violoncellos have almost exactly retained. The box was increased in size, the handle was lengthened beyond the body of the instrument, the number of strings was reduced to three or four, stretched over a bridge, and the sounding-holes were made in the shape of a crescent. From this time the _rote_ acquired a special character it had not lost even in the sixteenth century, when it became the bass-viol. This was its true destination. The size of the instrument dictated the manner in which it was held, either on the knees or on the ground between the legs (Fig. 195).

The _vielle_ or _viole_, which had no affinity except in shape with the _vielle_ (hurdy-gurdy) of the present day, was at first a small _rote_ held by the performer against his chin or his breast, in much the same way as the violin is now used (Fig. 196). The box, which was at first conical and convex, became gradually oval in shape, and the handle remained short and wide. It was, perhaps, this handle which terminated in a kind of ornamental scroll in the shape of a violet (_viola_), that originated the name of the instrument. The _viole_, just as the _rote_, formed the accompaniment _obligato_ of certain songs; and among the jugglers who played upon it good performers were rare (Figs. 197, 198). Improvements in the _vielle_ came for the most part from Italy, where the co-operation of a number of skilful lute-players was the means of gradually forming the violin. Even before the famous Dnifloprugar, born in the Italian Tyrol, had hit upon the model of his admirable violins, the handle of the _vielle_ had been lengthened,

its sides hollowed out, and its strings had received a more extended field of action by removing the stringer (_cordier_) from the centre of the sounding-board

Henceforth the play of the board became more free and easy, the performer was able to touch every string singly, and was in a position to substitute effects more characteristic instead of the former monotonous consonances.

England was the birthplace of the _crout_; France invented the _rote_, and Italy the _viole_; Germany originated the _gigue_,[25] the name of which may perhaps be derived from the similarity presented by the shape of the instrument to the thigh of a kid. The _gigue_ was provided with three strings (Fig. 199), and its special distinction from the _viole_ was, that instead of the handle being as it were independent of the body of the instrument, it was a kind of prolongation of the sounding-board. The _gigue_, which bore a considerable resemblance to the modern mandolin, was an instrument on which the Germans were accustomed to work wonders in the way of performance; according, at least, to the statement of Adenès, the _trouvère_, who speaks with admiration of the “_gigueours_ of Germany.” The _gigue_, however, entirely disappeared, at least in France, in the fifteenth century; but its name still remained as the designation of a joyous dance, which for a considerable period was enlivened by the sound of this instrument.

Among the musical instruments of this class in the Middle Ages, we have still to mention the rebec (Fig. 200), which was so often quoted by the authors of the day, and yet is so little known, although it figured in the court concerts in the time of Rabelais, who specifies it by the term _aulique_, in contrast to the rustic _cornemuse_ (bagpipes).

We must, in conclusion, speak of the monochord (_monocordium_), which is always mentioned by the authors of the Middle Ages with feelings of pleasure, although it appears to have been nothing more than the most simple and primitive expression of all the other stringed instruments (Fig. 201). It was composed of a narrow oblong box, on each end of the front-board were fixed two immovable bridges supporting a metallic string stretched from one to the other, and corresponding to a scale of notes traced out on the instrument. A movable bridge, which was shifted up and down between the string and the scale, produced whatever notes the performer wished to bring out. In the eighth century there was a kind of violin or mandolin furnished with a single metallic string played on with a metallic bow. Later still, we find a kind of harp formed of a long sounding-box traversed by a single string, over which the musician moved a small bow handled with a sudden and rapid movement.

The instruments we have named do not, however, embrace all those in use in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. There certainly were others which, in spite of the most intelligent investigations, and the most judicious deductions, are now known to us only by name. As regards, for instance, the nature and appearance of the _éles_ or _celes_, the _échaqueil_ or _échequier_, the _enmorache_, and the _micamon_, we are left to the vaguest conjectures.

PLAYING-CARDS.

Supposed Date of their Invention.--Existed in India in the Twelfth
Century.--Their connection with the Game of Chess.--Brought into
Europe after the Crusades.--First Mention of a Game with Cards in
1379.--Cards well known in the Fifteenth Century in Spain, Germany,
and France, under the name of _Tarots_.--Cards called _Charles the
Sixth’s_ must have been _Tarots_.--Ancient Cards, French, Italian,
and German.--Cards contributing to the Invention of Wood-Engraving
and Printing.

The origin of playing-cards has for many years past formed a special subject of investigation among scholars and antiquarians. For, however trifling the matter may appear in itself, this curious point is connected with two of the most important inventions of modern times--engraving and printing.

We must not, however, take upon ourselves to assert too positively that all the profound researches, persevering study, and ingenious deductions which have been applied to the subject have entirely succeeded in elucidating the question. Nevertheless, a certain degree of light has been thrown upon it, by which we shall endeavour to profit.

The question is, at what date are we to fix the invention of playing-cards, and to whom are we to attribute it? In order to solve these queries, they must be divided; for, although the introduction of playing-cards into Europe may not date back beyond the fourteenth century, and the invention of our game of piquet may not have been prior to the reign of Charles VII., it is at least asserted--(1st), that playing-cards existed in India in the twelfth century; (2nd), that the ancients played at games in which certain figures and numbers were represented on dice or tablets; (3rd), that in comparatively recent times the game of chess and the game of cards presented striking affinities, proving the common origin of these two games--one connected with painting, the other with sculpture.

If we are to believe Herodotus, the Lydians, in order to beguile the sufferings of hunger during a long and cruel famine, invented nearly every game, especially that of dice. Later authors ascribe the honour of these inventions to the Greeks, when irritated at the tedious delays of the siege of Troy. Cicero even mentions by name Pyrrhus and Palamedes as the originators of the “games in use in camps” (_ludos castrenses_). What were these games? Some say, chess; others, dice or knuckle-bones.

Certain very ancient specimens prove unquestionably that the Indian cards were nothing but a transformation of the game of chess; for the principal pieces in this game are reproduced on the cards, but in such a way that eight players instead of two could take part in it. In the game of chess there were only two armies of pawns, each having at its head a king, a vizier (who was afterwards turned into a “queen”), a knight, an elephant (which became a “bishop”), and a dromedary (afterwards a “castle”). There can be no doubt that the course and arrangement of these games were very different; but in both may be found an original affinity in the fact that they recalled to mind the terrible game of war, in which each adversary had to attack by means of stratagems, combinations, and vigilance.

We have now learned from certain authority (Abel de Rémusat, _Journal Asiatique_, September, 1822) that playing-cards, proceeding from India and China, were, like the game of chess (Fig. 203), in the hands of the Arabians and the Saracens at the commencement of the twelfth century. It is therefore almost certain they must have been brought into Europe after the Crusades, with the arts, traditions, and customs which the men of the West then derived from their Oriental antagonists. There is, however, every reason to believe that the use of cards spread but slowly; for at an epoch when the civil and ecclesiastical authorities were constantly issuing ordinances against games of chance, we do not find that cards were ever the subject of legal proceedings, like dice and chess.

The first formal mention made of playing-cards is found in a manuscript chronicle of Nicolas de Covelluzzo, preserved in the archives of Viterbo. “In the year 1379,” says the chronicler, “there was introduced at Viterbo the game of cards, which comes from the country of the Saracens, and is called by the latter _naïb_.” There is, in fact, a German book, the “Jeu d’Or,” printed at Augsbourg in 1472, which testifies to the fact that cards existed in Germany in the year 1300. But, in the first place, this evidence is not contemporary with the fact alleged; and, besides,

we may well suppose that the vanity of the Germans, which had attributed to themselves the discovery of printing, desired, with about as much reason, to appropriate also the invention of cards--that is, of wood-engraving. We shall, therefore, act judiciously in paying but little attention to this doubtful assertion, and hold to the account given by the chronicler of Viterbo. But the latter, unfortunately, furnishes us with no details as to the nature of these cards. Was the game similar to that which is still extant in India? Or was it one peculiar to the Arabs? These are questions which must remain unsolved. The only facts presented to our notice are, that in 1379 cards made their appearance in Europe, brought from Arabia, or the country of the Saracens, and that their original name is given. The Italians for a long time gave to cards the name of _naïbi_. In Spain they are still called _naypes_. If it be understood that the word _naïb_ in Arabic signifies “captain,” we shall see that the game in question was one of a military character, like that of chess, and we shall be led to recognise in these primitive cards the _tarots_ which were for a long time current in the south of Europe.

In 1387, John I., King of Castile, issued an ordinance prohibiting to play with dice, _naypes_, or at chess.

In the archives of the Audit Office, in Paris, there formerly existed an account of the treasurer, Poupart, who states that, in 1392, he had “paid to Jacquemin Gringonneur, painter, for three packs of cards in gold and various colours, ornamented with numerous devices, to lay before the lord the king (Charles VI.) for his amusement, 50 sols of Paris.” This game, which seemed at first intended only for the amusement of the king in his mental derangement, subsequently spread so much among the people, that the provost of Paris, in an ordinance of January 22, 1397, issued a prohibition “to persons engaged in trade from playing at tennis, bowls, dice, _cards_, and skittles, except on feast-days.” We must remark that, twenty-eight years previously, Charles V., in a celebrated ordinance which enumerates all the games of chance, did not mention cards.

The “Red Book” of the town of Ulm, a manuscript register preserved in the archives of that town, contains an ordinance dated in 1397, in which is conveyed a prohibition of games with cards.

These facts are the only authenticated evidence which can be brought forward with a view of fixing the approximate period of the introduction of cards into Europe. Some authors have certainly imagined they were in a position to determine an earlier epoch, but they have gone upon data the value of which has since been destroyed by more thorough investigation.

In the fifteenth century there are evident traces both of the existence and popularity of cards in Italy, Spain, Germany, and France. Their names, colours, and emblems, their number and forms, were indeed constantly changing, according to the country in which they were used and the fancy of the players. But whether called _tarots_ or “French cards,” they were in fact nothing but modifications of the primitive Oriental cards, and an imitation more or less faithful of the ancient game of chess.

Reckoning from the fifteenth century, we meet with cards in every enumeration of games of chance; we find them also proscribed and condemned in ecclesiastical and royal ordinances. The clergy, too, raised their voices against them; but these measures did not prevent the trade in

them from increasing, nor great attention to their improved manufacture. Poets and romance-writers vied with each other in speaking of them; they appeared in the miniatures in manuscripts, and also in the first attempts at engraving on wood and copper (Figs. 204 and 205). And, notwithstanding the fragile nature of the cards themselves, some have been preserved which belong to the earliest years of the fifteenth century.

As we have already seen, cards had, in principle, been classed among the number of childish games; but it may be safely asserted that this could not have long been the case, else how could we explain the legal strictures and the ecclesiastical anathemas of which they were the subject?

St. Bernard, for example, speaking on the 5th of March, 1423, to the crowd assembled in front of a church at Siena, inveighed with so much energy, and fulminated with so much persuasion, against games of chance, that all who heard ran at once and fetched their dice, chess, and _cards_, and burnt them on the very spot. But, adds the chronicle, there was a card-maker who, being ruined by the sermon of the saint, went to seek him, and with a flood of tears said to him: “Father, I am a maker of cards, and I have no other trade by which to live. By preventing me from following my trade, you condemn me to die of hunger.” “If painting is all you are capable of,” replied the preacher, “paint this picture.” And he showed him an image of a radiating sun, in the centre of which shone the monogram of Christ--I. H. S. The artisan followed his advice, and soon made his fortune by painting this representation, which was adopted by St. Bernard as his device.

Although in every direction similar censures were directed against cards, they nevertheless did not fail to come much into fashion, especially in Italy; and to have a considerable sale. Thus, in 1441, we find the master card-makers at Venice “who formed a rather numerous association,” claiming and obtaining from the senate a kind of prohibitory order against “the large quantity of _painted_ and _printed_ cards which were made out of Venice and were introduced into the town, to the great detriment of their art.” It is important to notice that mention is made here of _printed_ as well as of painted cards. The fact is, that at this date, not only did all the cities in Italy make their own cards, but, in consequence of the invention of wood-engraving, Germany and Holland exported a large quantity of them. We must also point out that documents of the same date appear to establish a distinction between the primitive _naïbi_ and cards properly so called, without, however, affording any detailed characteristics of either. It is, however, known that prior to the year 1419, one François Fibbia, a noble of Pisa who died in exile at Bologna, obtained from the “reformers” of this city, on the score of his being the inventor of the game of _tarrochino_, the right of placing his escutcheon of arms on the “queen _de bâton_,” and that of his wife’s arms on the “queen _de denier_.” _Bâtons_, _deniers_, with _coupes_ and _épées_, were then the suits of the Italian cards, as _carreau_ (diamond), _trèfle_ (club), _cœur_ (heart), and _pique_ (spade), were those of the French cards.

No original specimen has been preserved of the _tarots_ (_tarrochi_, _tarrochini_) or Italian cards of this epoch; but we possess a pack engraved about 1460, which is known to be an exact copy of them. Added to this, Raphael Maffei, who lived at the end of the fifteenth century, has left in his “Commentaries” a description of _tarots_, which were, he says, “a new invention,”--in comparison, doubtless, with the origin of playing-cards. From these two documents--though they present some differences--we may gather that the pack of _tarots_ was then composed of four or five series or suits, each of ten cards, bearing consecutive numbers, and presenting so many _deniers_, _bâtons_, _coupes_, and _épées_, equal in number to that of the card. To these series we must add a whole assortment of figures, representing the _King_, the _Queen_, the _Knight_, the _Foot-traveller_, the _World_, _Justice_, an _Angel_, the _Sun_, the _Devil_, a _Castle_, _Death_, a _Gibbet_, the _Pope_, _Love_, a _Buffoon_ (Fig. 206), &c.

It is evident that _tarots_ were current in France long before the invention of the game of piquet, which is unquestionably of French origin; and among these _tarots_ we must class the cards that are called those of Charles VI. (Figs. 207 and 208), and are now preserved in the Print-Room of the Bibliothèque Impériale in Paris; these may be considered as the oldest to be found in any collection, either public or private. The Abbé de Longuerue states that he saw the pack with all its cards complete; but only seventeen have been preserved to our day. These cards are painted with delicacy, like the miniatures in manuscripts, on a gilt ground, filled with dots forming a perforated ornamentation; they are also surrounded by a silvered border in which a similar dotting depicts a spirally twisted ribbon. This dotting is doubtless the _tare_, a kind of goffering produced by small holes pricked out and arranged in compartments, to which the _tarots_ owe their names, and of which our present cards still retain a kind of reminiscence, in their backs being covered with arabesques or dotted over in black or various colours. These cards were about seven inches long and three and a half inches wide, and were painted in distemper on cardboard ·039 inch thick. The composition of them is ingenious and to some extent skilful, the drawing correct and full of character, and the colouring or illumination brilliant.

Among the subjects they represent are some which deserve all the more attention, because they can hardly fail to recall to mind a conception somewhat similar to that of the “Dance of Death,” that terrible “morality” which, dating from this epoch, was destined to increase more and more in popularity. Thus, for instance, by the side of the _Emperor_, who is covered with silver armour and holds the globe and the sceptre, a _Hermit_ makes his appearance as an old man muffled in a cowl and holding up an hour-glass, an emblem of the rapidity of time. Then we have the _Pope_, who, with the tiara on his head, sits between two cardinals; but _Death_ is also there, mounted on a grey horse with a rough and shaggy coat, and sweeping down with his scythe kings, popes, bishops, and other great men of the earth. If we see _Love_, represented by three couples of lovers who embrace as they converse, while two cupids dart at them their arrows from a cloud above; we also see a _Gibbet_, on which hangs a gambler suspended by one foot, and still holding in his hand a bag of money. An _Esquire_, clothed in gold and scarlet, rides gallantly along, proudly waving his sword; a _Chariot_ bears in triumph an officer in full armour; a _Fool_ places his cap and bells under his arm that he may count upon his fingers. Finally, the last trumpets are waking up the dead, who come out of their graves to appear at the Last Judgment.

Fig. 208.--Justice.

(Cards taken from the Pack, said to be of Charles VI., preserved in the Bibl. Imp., Paris.)]

Most of these allegorical subjects have been retained in the _tarots_, which include, independent of the sixteen figures of our piquet-pack, twenty-two cards, representing the _Emperor_, the _Lover_, the _Chariot_, the _Hermit_, the _Gibbet_, _Death_, the _House of God_, the _End of the World_, &c.

We should scarcely be justified in imagining that these _tarots_, presenting as they did a picture of life so gloomily philosophical, regarded from a Christian point of view, could have enjoyed any great favour in the centre of a frivolous and corrupt court, devoted to little else but _fêtes_, masquerades, and singing; this, too, at a time when the State, a prey to every kind of intrigue, was falling into ruin, and the voice of insurrection was surging up among a people burdened by taxes, and decimated by pestilence and famine. On the other hand these _tarots_ might well please the imagination of certain good people who, having been deprived of their property in some of the disturbances incidental to these times, could not fail to accept as a consolation such emblematical representations of life and death. Artists of every kind tried their best to reproduce them in all forms; and as these designs found a place even in the ornaments of the female sex, it was scarcely probable that playing-cards would form an exception.

We are in possession of the remains of two ancient packs of cards, produced by means of engraved plates; they were discovered, like most cards of this date which have come to light, in the bindings of books of the fifteenth century. These cards, which belong to the reign of Charles VII., are essentially French in their character. We find in them the king, the queen, and the knave of each suit, as in our present pack of piquet cards. In one of these ancient packs we notice, however, traces of the Saracenic origin of the _naïbi_; the Mussulman “crescent” being substituted for the “diamond,” while the “club” is depicted in the Arabian or Moorish fashion; that is, with four similar branches. There is also another peculiarity; the “king of hearts” is represented by a kind of savage, or hairy ape, leaning upon a knotty stick. The “queen” of the same suit is likewise covered with hair, and holds a torch in her hand. The “knave of clubs,” who is well fitted to serve as an escort to the “king” and “queen of hearts,” is also covered with hair, and carries a knotty stick on his shoulder. We may, besides, notice the legs of a fourth hairy personage among those which have been separated from their bodies by the knife of the bookbinder. But, with the exception of these, all the other personages are clothed according to the fashion or the etiquette which prevailed at the court of Charles VII. The “queen of crescents” is represented in a costume similar to that of

Mary of Anjou, the wife of the king; or in that of Gérarde Grassinel, his mistress. The representations of the kings, the hairy one excepted, are identical with those we have of Charles VII. himself, or the nobles of his suite. Their costume was a velvet hat surmounted by the crown ornamented with fleurs-de-lis; a robe open in front and lined with ermine or _menu vair_, a tight doublet, and close stockings. The “knaves” are copied from the pages and sergeants-at-arms of the period; one wears the plumed flat cap and long cloak; another, on the contrary, is clad in a short dress, and stands erect in his close-fitting doublet and tightly drawn breeches. The latter displays, written on a streamer which he is unrolling, the name of the card-maker, “F. Clerc.” These are certainly cards of French invention, or, at any rate, of French manufacture; but what explanation are we to give of the presence of the savage “king” and “queen,” and the “hairy knave,” among the kings, queens, and knaves all dressed according to the fashion of the time of Charles VII.? We may, perhaps, find a satisfactory reply by referring to the chronicles of the preceding reign.

On the 29th of January, 1392, there was a grand _fête_ at the mansion of Queen Blanche in honour of the marriage of a Chevalier de Vermandois with one of the queen’s ladies. The king, Charles VI., had only just recovered from his mental malady. One of his favourites, Hugonin de Janzay, projected an entertainment in which the king and five lords were to take a part. “It was,” says Juvénal des Ursins, “a masquerade of wild men chained together, and all shaggy; their dress was made to fit close to their body, and was rendered rough by flax and tow fastened on by resinous pitch, greased so as to shine the better.” Froissart, who was an eye-witness of this _fête_, says that the six actors in the _ballet_ entered the hall yelling and shaking their chains. As it was not known who these maskers were, the Duke of Orleans, brother of the king, wishing to find out, took a lighted torch from the hands of his servant, and held it so close to one of these strange personages that “the heat of the fire caught the flax.” The king was fortunately separated from his companions, who were all burned, with the exception of one only, who threw himself into a tub full of water. Although Charles VI. escaped from this peril, he was deeply affected by the thought of the danger to which he had been exposed, and the result was a relapse into his former insanity.

This fearful _ballet des ardents_ left such an impression on the minds of people generally, that seventy years afterwards a German engraver made it the subject of a print. Should we, then, be venturing on an inadmissible hypothesis if we attribute to a cardmaker of this epoch the idea of introducing the same subject in a pack of cards? which, as is abundantly proved, was modified according to the whim of the artist. In order to justify the costume of a female savage and the torch, which are given to the “queen of hearts,” we must not forget that Isabel of Bavaria, consort of Charles VI., is accused of having assisted in devising this fatal masquerade, which was intended to get rid of the king; and of having taken as her accomplice the Duke of Orleans, her brother-in-law, who is said to have purposely set fire to the clothing of these pretended wild men, among whom was the king.

The second pack, or fragment of a pack, which is dated back to this epoch, presents a similarity to our present cards of a yet more striking nature, at least in the characters and costumes of the figures; although the names and devices of the personages still are suggestive of their Saracenic origin. We must remark, under this head, that for several centuries the names coupled with the different personages were incessantly varying. In this pack we find “kings,” “queens,” and “knaves” of clubs, hearts, spades, and diamonds; the Saracenic crescent has disappeared. The “kings” are all holding sceptres, and the “queens” carry flowers. Everything in the representations is not only in harmony with the fashions of the period, but in addition to this, there are no violations either of the laws of heraldry or of the usages of chivalry.

According to tradition, this pack, the true piquet-pack, which superseded the Italian _tarots_ and the cards of Charles VI., and soon became generally used in France, was the invention of Etienne Vignoles, called La Hire, one of the bravest and most active soldiers of that period. The tradition has a right to our respect, for the mere examination of this piquet-pack proves that it must have been the work of some accomplished _chevalier_, or at least of a mind profoundly imbued with the manners and customs of chivalry. But, without any wish to exclude La Hire, who, as the historians say, “always had his helmet on his head and his lance in his hand, ready to attack the English, and never rested until he died of his wounds,” we are led rather to ascribe the honour of this ingenious invention to one of his contemporaries, Etienne Chevalier, secretary and treasurer to the king, who was distinguished by his skill in designing. Jacques Cœur, whose commercial relations with the East brought upon him the accusation of having “sent arms to the Saracens,” might well have become the importer of Asiatic cards into France, and Chevalier might then have amused himself by applying devices to them or, as was then said, by _moralising_ or symbolising them. In India it had been the game of the vizier and of war; the royal treasurer turned it into a pack having reference to the knight and chivalry. In the first place he placed on it his own armorial bearings, the unicorn, which figures in several ancient packs of cards. He did not forget the allusive arms of Jacques Cœur, and substituted “hearts” for the _coupes_. He made the “clubs” imitate the heraldic flower of Agnes Sorel; and also changed the _deniers_ into diamonds, or arrow-heads (Fig. 210), and the _épées_ into spades, to do honour to the two brothers Jean and Gaspard Bureau, grand-masters of artillery in France.

Etienne Chevalier, as the most skilful designer of emblems of the period, was eminently capable of substituting, in playing-cards, ladies or queens for the Oriental “viziers” or Italian “knights” which, on the _tarots_, figured alone among the “kings” and “knaves.” We must, however, repeat that we have no intention of depriving La Hire of the honour of the invention, and only hazard a supposition in addition to the opinion generally received.

These cards, which bear all the characteristics of the reign of Charles VII., must be looked upon as the first attempts at wood-engraving, and at printing by means of engraved blocks. They were probably executed between 1420 and 1440, that is to say, prior to most of the known xylographic productions. Playing-cards, therefore, served as a kind of introduction or prelude to printing from engraved blocks, an invention which considerably preceded the printing from movable characters.

When, however, we observe that so early as the middle of the fifteenth century playing-cards were spread all over Europe, it is but natural to imagine that some economical plan of manufacture had been discovered and employed. Thus, as we have already mentioned, Jacquemin Gringonneur, in 1392, was paid fifty-six sols of Paris, that is about £7 1_s._ 8_d._ of our present money, for three packs of _tarots_, painted for the King of France. One single pack of _tarots_, admirably painted, about the year 1415, by Marziano, secretary to the Duke of Milan, cost one thousand five hundred golden crowns (about £625); but in 1454, a pack of cards intended for the Dauphin of France cost no more than five _sous of Tours_ (about eleven or twelve shillings). In the interval between 1392 and 1454 means had been discovered of making playing-cards at a cheap rate, and of converting them into an object of trade; mercers were accustomed to sell them together with the “pins,” which then took the place of copper and silver counters; hence the French proverb, “Tirer son épingle du jeu” (to get out of a scrape).

Although the use of playing-cards continued to extend more and more, we must not imagine that they had ceased to be the subject of prohibitory and condemnatory ordinances on the part of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities. On the contrary, a long list might be made of the decrees launched against cards themselves and those that used them. Princes and lords, as a matter of right, felt themselves above these prohibitions; the lower orders and the dissolute did not fail to infringe them. It was nevertheless the case, that in the face of these constantly-renewed prohibitions, the manufacture of playing-cards could only be developed, or rather perhaps be carried on, in some indirect mode. Thus, we find the business at first was concealed, as it were, under that of a stationer or illuminator. Not until December, 1581--that is, in the reign of Henry III.--do we find the first regulation fixing the statutes of the “master-cardmakers.” These statutes, confirmed by letters patent in 1584 and 1613, remained in force down to the (French) Revolution. In the confirmation of corporate privileges granted at the latter date, it is laid down as a rule that henceforth master-cardmakers should be bound to place their names, surnames, signs, and devices on the “knave of clubs” (Figs. 212, 213) of every pack of cards. This prescription appears to have done nothing more than legalise an old custom--a fact which may be proved by an examination of the curious collection of ancient cards in the Print-Room of the Bibliothèque Impériale. We have already stated that for a period of many years the names given to the various personages in the pack varied constantly, according to the fancy of the cardmaker; a mere glance at the collection just mentioned will confirm this assertion.