Chapter III: Part 3
The suits represent the four quarters of the globe. Clubs contain a history of Africa (the name being printed across the surface of the cornered Ace),—its area, inhabitants, products, commerce, customs, etc.; all this valuable but obsolete information being crowded on the surface of the ten pip cards of the suit. The “J” (Jack) shows the principal islands which surround the continent; the “Q” (Queen) tells the quarter of the globe to which Africa belongs, with various statistics; and the “K” (King), the kingdoms or governments into which it is divided. The same formula is adopted on the other cards,—the Spades being devoted to Asia, the Hearts to Europe, and the Diamonds to America. Among the statements on the cards we find, on the Four of Diamonds: “The Dutch first planted colonies in New York, but these usurpers were obliged to own the right of the English to the land.” On the “J” (Jack), among other islands mentioned, it states that “Long Island is 140 miles by 10. The middle is sandy.... The place called Lloyd’s Neck, from its situation and fertility, is or might be made a paradise” (and this sentence probably led to the purchase and preservation of these precious cards). The chief towns of America and their population were given as follows: Mexico, 150,000; Lima, 60,000; Quito, 60,000; Cusco, 42,000; Panama and Philadelphia, 42,000; New York, 23,000; Boston, 19,000; Newport, 6,000.
What manner of game was played with these instructive cards is not now known. They were probably valued only as a book would have been which contained interesting information in a condensed form; and it is more than probable, from the excellent state of preservation in which they were found, that they were looked upon with awe by Miss Angelina, preserved with care, but never played with.
A letter from a sprightly young lady quoted in the “Republican Court,” written during a visit to the Van Hornes of New York, which was probably about 1783, says: “All is a dead calm until the _cards_ are introduced, when you see pleasure dancing in the eyes of all the matrons, and they seem to gain new life.” But what were the favourite games of the dames of that city? She does not mention.
What has been called the national game of the United States, and the one at present in fashion among many classes of society, although perhaps not among the most refined and cultivated, is Poker. This game has its advocates, and a historiette of its own which is too widely known to require further comment here.
Among the terms used in playing it, and peculiar to it, are _blind_, which is supposed to have been derived from “bind;” _straddle_, which means to cover both the _blind_ and the _ante_. The latter word may have been derived from the French _entrer_, to enter; as to _ante_ is to enter the game by paying the stakes required.
Euchre, Commerce, Piquet, Bezique, and Whist are general favourites; and they have superseded the old-fashioned games of Brag (the father of Poker), Pope Joan, and others dear to the hearts of our grandmothers.
Among other ingenious means of evading the religious scruples that forbade playing-cards, some publisher hit upon the scheme of introducing to the public what he called “Yankee Notions.” These were cards covered with distinctive symbols and marks of suits, and were accompanied by a small book of rules which has been embodied in an American edition of Hoyle for playing with them, and which contained the following preface:—
“Believing that a settled prejudice exists with a large class of the community against the old-fashioned cards, the publisher has issued an entirely new style, to the introduction of which into every family circle there cannot possibly be the least objection. These cards and the games adapted to them are calculated to discipline and exercise the mind.”
There are fifty cards in the pack, composed of five different suits; namely, Faces, Flags, Eagles, Stars, and Shields, “the honour cards being called the upper ten.”
The directions for dealing, cutting, etc. are given, and are exactly the same as those in common use among all card-players, be they bent on gambling or only on innocent amusement.
The publisher goes on to state that “many things will serve for counters, as kernels of corn, or coffee, or old cards cut up. _For those who prefer something better the publisher of these cards has provided an ample supply at a small expense._”
The difference between this pack and the ordinary cards generally played with seems to be only in the symbols which have been placed on them. The Flags, Eagles, etc., take the place of the Hearts, Diamonds, Spades, and Clubs. To an unprejudiced mind the substitution of one symbol for another would not be sufficient to excuse the use of the “Yankee Notions” in places where ordinary playing-cards were regarded with disfavour. Sums of money might be as well staked and lost on Flags and Eagles as on Hearts and Diamonds, if the players were inclined to gamble on a game; and the term “to throw” or “to pass,” which in the rules is employed instead of “to deal,” might soothe the scruples of some minds, although the action in both cases were the same. That these games might be gambling, is proved by the suggestion about the counters.
The publisher of the “Yankee Notions” gives in his book of rules many games which could be played with his cards, one of which bears the ominous name of “Bunkum.” Another game called “John Smith” is played under some droll rules. Among others is one which states that “the holder of Mrs. Smith, who is always anxious to recall her truant husband John to her side,” must recite certain verses when she calls for him, “thinking him perhaps in doubtful company; and the position of John is one of _dread_, thinking he will be caught and possibly _Caudled_. The holder of Mrs. Smith will anxiously watch for the first opportunity to get the lead and call for her man John; for when she calls, John must go. She may say,—
‘Come forth, great John,
Thou paragon!
My voice I’m sure you know.’
He may reply,—
‘I know that voice,
I’ve got no choice;
’Tis hard, but I must go.’”
The game resembles in many respects the kindred one of “Dr. Busby,” in which the four suits contain only face and no pip cards. The suits being divided into four families, and the object of the game being to collect all the families in one hand by asking for each card by name from the right-hand neighbour, any mistake in naming over or “calling” for the cards causes the “call” to pass to the neighbour on the left, who then endeavours to ask for all the cards from the person who had been previously playing. This innocent game requires no counters, cannot possibly be used for gambling, and is an excellent exercise for the memory.
That cards were fashionable in some localities of the United States during the past century is proved not only by the invitations issued on the backs of playing-cards (of which specimens exist), and which have been already described, but also by the existence of numerous beautiful Japanese or Chinese lacquer counter-boxes which may be found any day carefully treasured in many families.
These boxes, which were originally imported especially for the person who ordered them, are usually of black and gold lacquer, oval in shape and covered with graceful arabesques of leaves and tendrils, which surround the initial letter of the owner’s name, which was not only painted on the cover of the large box, but was also on each one of the tiny “fish boxes” contained inside of it. These strangely shaped little receptacles fitted compactly into the large boxes, and could be removed and replaced at pleasure. The centre of the box contained a number of small trays, especially designed for the favourite and at one time fashionable game of “Pope Joan.” Each tray bore on its bottom a quaint figure painted in lacquer, which represented the Chinese idea of an ordinary court card; and this tray, according to the rules of the game, was to contain the counters when the players went through the customary formula and paid one to the Knave, two to the Queen, three to the King, four to the Ace, and five to “Pope Joan,” which was represented by the _nine of Diamonds_. These convenient little trays were almost a necessity when playing this game; but substitutes were often ingeniously contrived by taking from an extra pack the necessary cards and bending their sides up until they would hold the counters without spilling them all over the table.
The counters, or “fish” (as our grandmothers called them), which were imported in these foreign boxes were made of small bits of mother of pearl which were of different sizes. Some of them were round, some oval, and some long, slender, and shaped somewhat like their namesakes the fish. They were usually engraved with quaint devices, a circular space being left in the centre of the counter intended to contain the initial letter of the owner’s name, which was designed so as to match that placed on the boxes.
One set of counters in particular were imported by a naval officer for his family, and were small circular disks of pearl on which strange figures were painted in bright colours. These figures have become obliterated in the course of years. They came from their foreign home in a small round ivory box which contained only a limited number. They were always used for counters, but they may have been intended by the manufacturer for a game by themselves; and they somewhat resemble those described by Mr. Chatto, which he classed among the cards. Unfortunately nothing remains of the original pictures, and only a few dabs of colour now stain the tiny pearl disks, the outlines of the devices having been entirely obliterated.
Another most beautiful set of Chinese counters is contained in an ivory box. They are curiously carved with minute figures in low relief, and when first taken from their box were in regular order, and it seemed as if their pictured sides could relate a history. Unfortunately, the one hundred and sixty odd pieces soon became hopelessly mixed; and the tale they could have told was never related, and is now lost forever.
Besides the cards introduced into North America by Columbus and his sailors or by the emigrants to various parts of the country, strange gambling instruments or sticks which may be called cards have been found among the Indians of southeastern Alaska and Queen Charlotte’s Islands. These original and peculiar implements are made by the natives for their own use, and are of two kinds,—one set being beautifully carved with strange devices of birds, animals, men, etc.; the other set simply marked by lines of red or black paint rudely smeared on their rounded surface, but which are quite distinct enough to distinguish at a glance one from the other. The same game seems to be played with either the carved or painted set, although one seems to be only numbered, and the other to have no numbers and to rely on the carvings to represent the value of the stick.
From what source these Indians derived their “cards” will probably never be known. Taking into account the difference between cardboard and cubes of wood, there is more than a fancied resemblance between these rude toys and the cards of Asia, and this may point to the original source. It is certain that they were not derived from the Spaniards or other emigrants who settled on the eastern coast of America and moved toward the west, as the emblems have nothing in common with European cards, whereas the cards used by the Apache Indians of Arizona show their derivation from the Spanish cards at once. These Indians make for themselves cards from deerskin, on which they paint in two colours—namely, red and blue—the _Oros_, _Denari_, _Espadas_, and _Copas_ of the Spanish emblems. These deerskin cards are practically imperishable, as even the very rough usage which they undoubtedly have cannot destroy them; and they are greatly prized by their owners, who can seldom be induced to part with them. There are several packs of these cards in the National Museum at Washington, and one in the Museum at Boston.
A complete set of Haida gambling-sticks is also to be found in the National Museum; and casts of the carvings have been carefully taken on plaster, which displays the shape of the figures more plainly than the curved surfaces of the sticks can do. Thirty-two of these cubes compose “a pack,” and these are contained in a leather pouch. The game is usually played by a number of persons, who squat on the ground in a circle around the dealer, who places the sticks in front of him under a pile of shavings or shredded cedar bark, and draws them out with great ceremony and hands them to the players, who receive them with grunts, cries, and other uncouth noises. Each stick has its value; and they are passed with great rapidity from one to the other, the players staking considerable amounts on the game.
These cubes are made of spruce, about six inches long and half an inch thick; on them patterns of birds, animals, fish, men, and other devices are cut. The designs necessarily adapt themselves to the curved surfaces, and on some are repeated, so that when the stick is held upright the same pattern is seen back to back. This arrangement is almost always followed, although there are exceptions to the rule. What the designs mean and what their value is no one seems to know, but it is quite evident that they are Totemic devices; and these gambling-sticks are probably the most peculiar contrivances that have ever been invented to take the place of the pictured cards or the graven chessmen, and though not to be considered as a link between the two, certainly contain characteristics peculiar to both.
They may be classed into suits, which can be divided as follows: _Figures_, _Devices_, _Animals_, _Fish_, _Birds_, and _Reptiles_ or _Insects_.
The suit of Figures has eight sticks. The first one is a man crowned, and holding in his right hand a fan, which seems to be a strange attribute when the climate of Queen Charlotte’s Islands is considered. The carving on the second cube resembles that of a man seated, and leaning his chin on his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Two semicircles over the head may represent a hat; fifteen notches placed on each side of this figure may show its value. Number three displays a seated figure, with what seems to be the soles of its feet turned outward; four circles cut beside the figure may denote its worth. The fourth cube represents a seated figure in profile, with one hand spread out to show the thumb and four fingers. This stick has no marks to denote its value, unless four notches deeply cut in its back may take their place. The fifth stick is an interesting one, as it seems intended to show both the face and back of the figure. Over the head are two semicircles resembling those on number two. The hands hang on each side, each one having but three fingers and a thumb. The carvings on number six contain devices which resemble the lotus-flower. In a circle is a human face, the head surmounted by the semicircular cap. Number seven shows two grinning faces without bodies, but with arms and large hands displayed with the palms out. Two large chevrons divide these devices, which are cut across the stick, and not, as the others are, up and down its length. The eighth carving represents a hand with four well-shaped fingers and a thumb. Certain notches and cuts which surround the hand are undecipherable.
The eight succeeding cubes contain strange devices, which seem to represent fingers, eyes, teeth, etc., but which are confused and meaningless to the uninitiated. Number seventeen, on the contrary, shows a spirited and lifelike carving of a beaver; and the next one a strange-looking monster, with a large mouth and huge teeth. The nineteenth cube has on it the head of some unrecognizable beast with a very long snout; and the twentieth, a ferocious-looking, large-mouthed animal. In cubes twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four the carvings resemble fish; twenty-two, in particular, shows a clever representation of a huge fish, and also a duck. Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, and twenty-eight call to mind birds; the twenty-sixth cube, in particular, showing most plainly the head, wings, and claws of what may be intended for an eagle. The stick which is numbered twenty-eight has on it a carving of a bird perched beside a nest which contains four fledglings.
The last four sticks are as well carved and deeply cut as any of the others in the pack, number twenty-nine bearing a spirited cut of a beetle; but the others cannot be as easily deciphered. The carvings of the beaver, the eagle, and the beetle represent these creatures in an erect or upright attitude, instead of the one natural to the animal. Whether this has some peculiar significance or not remains to be proved.
The “gambling-sticks” used by the Alaska Indians closely resemble those already described; and they also have two kinds of “sticks,” some of them carved and some painted. There are fifty-four cubes in the painted pack, some of them perfectly plain or unpainted; two more plain sticks have notched ends, which probably increases their value. Fourteen of the sticks have stripes painted on them, but these are so faint and blurred as to be almost unnoticeable. None of this set are notched. Three sticks are striped with black bars, one, two, and three in number; five sticks have red bands. Another set of six sticks have red and black stripes, numbering from one to eight. All these sticks are notched at one end, and, besides the bars, have on them smears of red or black paint. The game played with the painted sticks appears to be the same as that played with the carved ones; and the former are also kept in a leather pouch, which is bound or tied with a leather thong.
JAPAN.
It is to Japan that we must turn when we wish to find the most dainty and original of Playing-cards. This interesting nation have devised for themselves the symbols that they use, which are so unique that they bear no features in common with those of any other country, if we except one device which may be an accidental one, and which will hereafter be mentioned; otherwise the Japanese playing-cards differ completely from those of other places, except that they are painted on pasteboard and highly glazed or varnished.
Those writers who trace in European and other cards a resemblance to the classes of society into which the world is divided, and promulgate the opinion that the four suits commonly seen represent them,—namely, the Cup or Priest, the Sword or Soldier, Money the Merchant, and Maces the Artisan,—would find it impossible to divide the Japanese cards in this way, as they belong distinctly to a new set of ideas, and seem to have been originated in the Islands, where alone they are used, and do not show, as those of other nations do, some mark or device which betrays to the student an inherited symbol which may be traced to the original Oriental card.
Japanese cards are of the same shape as those used by the French and other European nations, but are very much smaller than ordinary cards, being a little more than two inches long by one broad. They are made of pasteboard, on the back of which black paper has been carefully pasted over the edges of the cards so as to leave a narrow rim to form a frame on the face of the card. The symbols are stencilled, and the whole card varnished or enamelled, so that they are extremely slippery.
Forty-nine in number, they are divided into twelve suits of four each, with one card which is a trifle smaller than the others, and which has a plain white face and is used as a “Joker.” On the other cards are painted flowers or emblems appropriate to the twelve months of the year; each card is distinct and different from its fellows, even when bearing the same emblem, and they can be easily distinguished and classified not only by the design they bear, but also by a character or letter which marks nearly every card, and which seems to denote the vegetable that represents the month.
January is marked by pine-trees, two of the cards showing them against a lurid sky. On the third the pine stands out on a grayish background; and the fourth has a setting sun flecked with light clouds, the pines barely indicated in front of it, and the larger part of the card being covered with the figure of a white-bodied, red-eyed stork. February displays as her emblem a plum-blossom; the four cards devoted to the month bearing the flower in various positions. March has a red cherry-blossom, and April the hanging tendrils of the wisteria vine; and on one of the cards belonging to this month there is a wee yellow-bird which is flying across its surface under a red cloud. For May there are four beautiful blue irises, with long spiky leaves; one card showing in its corner part of a dock and the water, from which the flower is lifting its lovely head. June is represented by blood-red peonies, one of the cards having two yellow butterflies hovering over the flowers. On July’s cards star-shaped leaves, some yellow, some red, and some black, are scattered over their surfaces. These leaves resemble those of the maple-trees. On one of the cards belonging to this July suit a deer stands under the branches of this tree; and it is this deer that is the one device which may be found on cards belonging to other nations. Some packs of Chinese cards have deer on one of their cards, and in ancient Spanish packs animals resembling deer can be seen, although they are usually represented with one straight horn something like a unicorn, which fabulous animal has been retained in Spanish cards to this day.
August has four pictures of grass-covered mountains. In three of them there is a cloudy blue sky, and the fourth shows the sun looking hot and sultry, beaming down on the treeless elevation. Three birds fly across the sky on one of these cards. September bears the Mikado’s flower,—a party-coloured yellow and red chrysanthemum; October a “Hägi” with red or green leaves, and on one card is a yellow boar trotting along under the spreading branches of the tree.
November shows on one card willow-trees sharply defined against a leaden sky. The willows on the fellow cards look wind-tossed, and a long-tailed bird skims across the sky. A third card is covered with inky clouds and torrents of rain, with strange zigzags shooting over its surface looking like forked lightning. The fourth card of this suit bears the quaint figure of a man rushing under the willow-trees through the storm and dropping his sandals in his haste, his head covered by a huge yellow umbrella and surrounded by streaks of lightning, with the rain streaming down on his unprotected body.
December carries the Imperial Japanese plant, Kĭrĭ; and over one of the flowers hovers a beautiful red-crested pheasant with silver wings.
The chrysanthemum is the Mikado’s plant, and the Kĭrĭ the national flower of Japan. The favourite game at present seems to be like Casino, in which any card of a set can take up any other card, but each one has a particular value in the final count. An infinite variety of games may be played with these cards, as there is a shade of difference in each one, and to the accustomed eye they are as easy to sort as the European ones. There is a great difference in the style and finish of Japanese cards. Some of them are carefully executed and highly varnished; but other packs are roughly stencilled and show but little glaze. The “Joker” is not necessarily part of the pack, and does not accompany each one.
THE KING.
“Behold four Kings in majesty rever’d
With hoary whiskers and a forky beard.
* * * * *
The hoary Majesty of Spades appears,
Puts forth one manly leg to sight revealed,
The rest in many-coloured robe concealed.”
Even Pope in his description of the game of Ombre has thought it not beneath his notice to describe the appearance of the monarchs of the cards; indeed theirs is no uninteresting history, and although but slightly alluded to by the chroniclers of their day, they have many a time played quite as important a part and had as much influence in their way as the monarch who was seated on a more stable throne than a paper one, and who sometimes himself yielded to the fascinations of his rival of cards.
That the dress worn by the Kings in the English court cards is a rude copy of that of the notorious Henry the Eighth of England is not only a matter of tradition, but is also supported by a reference to the existing portraits of that monarch.
Notwithstanding the fact that the crowns of the card Kings are “_fleurdelisés_,” which seems to point at first to a French origin, the dress in other respects bears a close resemblance to that of bluff King Harry.
In French and German packs the Kings generally bear sceptres, globes, and other insignia of their exalted rank; but those of the English cards are warriors to the core, and throwing aside the emblems, which only show their rank, they arm themselves and stand ready for the fray. Their Majesties of Spades, Clubs, and Hearts hold up their trusty double-edged swords like the brave men that they are; the King of Hearts being in a most warlike attitude, with his uplifted sword held ready for a blow. The King of Spades alone carries a battle-axe; but why he in particular adopted this weapon in preference to any other, history does not declare.
Among the French packs the royal family are always distinguished by names which are plainly written on some part of the card; and these names vary according to the date of the pack, and seemingly through the caprice of the card-maker. French authors have traced the origin of these names to various celebrated personages, and find that they were assumed to do honour to the reigning monarchs of the period, their queens or mistresses, or some favourite hero of the hour, either real or fictitious; and the only limit to the variety of these names was the imagination of the designer.
A glance over any old collection of French cards will verify this assertion; but the fashion does not seem to have been followed in other countries, even in England, where the symbols of the French were adopted in preference to those used in Spain, Germany, and other places. Their Majesties of Cards were not dubbed with names, and if originally intended to represent some particular person (as some of them, notably the Kings and Queens, undoubtedly were), the names were not placed on the cards, and we have only tradition on which to rest the presumption that they were intended for any celebrated character either in history or fiction.
To return to the French cards, those for example which are supposed to have been made for Charles the Seventh bear no inscriptions but that of the maker’s name; but in a nearly contemporaneous pack the King of Diamonds is named _Corsube_, the King of Clubs _Sans Souci_, and he of Spades _Apollin_. This collection of names, says one writer, shows a triple influence,—the Eastern origin of the cards, in the first place, as they bear strange cognomens which are not French; in the second, the impression that the old romances of chivalry had made on the mind of the designer; and third, the reflection in them of contemporaneous events.
Many persons point to this pack as being the very one that was designed by Étienne Vignoles, or, as he was usually called, La Hire, or Chevalier, and declare that they are the oldest examples that bear the symbols of Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, and Spades. Going back to the names borne by the card Kings, we fancy that we see that the one assumed by his Majesty of Spades (Apollin) was derived from that borne by an idol adored by the Saracens, which is mentioned in an epic poem of the period; and Corsube was a knight of Cordue (Corsuba), who was glorified by the romancers of that day. The names of the Queens and Knaves of this pack are those of celebrated historical characters.
Another old pack which belongs without doubt to the reign of Louis the Twelfth contains a King of Hearts named Charles, a King of Diamonds Cæsar, one of Clubs Artus, and of Spades David; and in a later one belonging to the commencement of the reign of Francis the First the King of Clubs has become Alexander.
About the time of the battle of Pavia and the captivity of the French King (Francis) in Spain and his marriage with the dowager Eleanor, the influence of Spanish and also of Italian fashions shows itself in many ways in the cards, and the names of the Kings are changed to Julius Cæsar, Charles, Hector, and David.
Under the reign of Henry the Second the names bestowed upon the cardboard sovereigns begin to resemble those borne by them in the French pack of the present day. The King of Diamonds is Cæsar; of Spades, David; and of Clubs, Alexander.
During the period when Henry the Third governed France the cards became the reflectors of the extravagant fashions of that effeminate reign. The Kings in card-land wore pointed beards, like the reigning monarch; their collars, like his, were stiffly starched; they had hats bearing long plumes, and their breeches were puffed out at the hips in a most extraordinary way; while, as if to make the figure look as slender and as womanly as possible, the doublet was pinched in at the waist; and they had peculiar boots, which were then the mode.
Henry the Fourth mounted the throne of France, and the card Kings immediately altered their costumes and their names, and reflected the aspect of his court, and the names of the heroes of the day were given to the gentlemen of the card circle.
The paper sovereigns generally mirrored the characteristics of the day; and when the successors of Henry the Fourth mounted the throne the change is at once shown in the cards, either by the names, the dresses, the weapons, or by all these. At one time Italian fashions and customs, imported by Marie de’ Medici, influenced them, and the names became Carel, Capet, Melun, etc.; and they change with amusing rapidity after her death.
A most interesting and almost boundless field of research opens before the student who wishes to trace in these seemingly meaningless variations the prominent events and fashions of the period, which are stamped on the cards, and can be easily traced. This has induced many persons to make elaborate studies from them; and one in particular, Père Daniel, declares that he can detect the fact that _David_, one of the original names of the King of Spades, is intended to represent Charles the Seventh of France; and he draws an elaborate parallel between the character of the real king and the characteristics of the mimic one as represented on the cardboard. Other authors demur at this, but it is at least worthy of note.
During the time of the French Revolution it was not only the royal family who were deposed and beheaded; but the same fate also followed their Majesties of Spades, Clubs, Diamonds, and Hearts.
“The King was slyly fingered from the deck;”
the sovereigns were banished, and their places supplied by pictured representations of sages and philosophers. The Reign of Reason did not last long; and the royal family were recalled in 1813, and established more firmly than ever on their ancient thrones, from whence even the republican _cartiers_ of the present day in France have not desired to depose them, to replace their serene highnesses with presidents, senators, and other rulers of the revised republic.
Some attempts have been made in the United States of America to supplant the kings in their government of the card world, by placing the pictures of prominent generals in their place; and after the triumphant termination of the war with Mexico in 1848 a pack was issued on which Generals Scott, Bragg, Wool, and Twiggs took the place of the sovereigns of the packs as rulers of the card suits. But these peculiar cards, handsome as they were in their details, did not meet with popular favour, and are only found in some collections, while the “Great Republic” meekly bows its head, and submits to the dominion of the Kings of Diamonds, of Hearts, of Clubs, and of Spades, who rule triumphantly over it as well as the greater part of the civilized world, dressed, as they have been for hundreds of years, like their brother Henry the Eighth of England; and every deviation from this quaint garb is frowned down at once by their loyal subjects, who detest all changes in card-land, and cling to the obsolete costumes and quaint figures with unswerving loyalty.
It is worth while to note the interesting fact that the first sovereigns of the French cards are still in existence, and are now preserved in Paris in the Cabinet des Estampes. These are the cards which have already been mentioned as having been the identical ones invented for the amusement of Charles the Seventh by one of his courtiers. That they are the same is not doubted by any authorities.
The names of the Kings of this pack—Corsube, Apollon, etc.—have already been dwelt upon, and their probable origin traced. They are minutely described by Mr. Taylor in his “History of Cards,” who says: “The figures are engraved on wood, printed with a pale ink of a brownish tint, and afterwards coloured with stencil in the usual manner. The crowns of the kings are formed of fleurs-de-lis, and the costumes are those of the period of Charles the Seventh.”
These cards were discovered in Lyons by a M. Henin, who found them pasted in the cover of a book of the fifteenth century, of which they formed part of the binding. Their fortunate discoverer well understood the value of this prize, and they were carefully removed, and are now treasured as the first specimens of cards which were divided into suits with the symbols which they now bear. The book-binder’s knife has shaved off the title of the King of Hearts, or rather his name; otherwise the principal court cards are almost uninjured, and are preserved with the respect they deserve to have as the oldest surviving monarchs of the world,—their age being nearly five hundred years, the date of their invention being about 1425.
THE QUEEN.
As we turn to study “the Little Madames of the Would-be family,” as the Queens of the cards have been called, mention must first be made of their creation.
It seems impolite to note and dwell upon a lady’s age, however great it may be; but the birth of the first Queen of cards marks an epoch and is worth recording, notwithstanding the fact that it took place as far back in the history of the world as 1425. At this date, as has been mentioned, the cards were first separated from the original Tarots and divided into suits, which were distinguished by the symbols that they now bear in France; and the old devices which resembled money, swords, and other strange designs were discarded. The figures on the cards were also changed, and the Vizir was discarded and disappeared with the old marks which distinguished the suits.
Their Majesties the first Queens of cards are, with their royal consorts, preserved in the French Museum. The history of their invention has already been related. The Adams of the pack were, by the politeness of the French courtier, provided with Eves, and they have become the ancestors of countless millions of successors.
Previous to the arrangement of the Tarot cards into the more convenient pack which is now generally used, the female figure was placed in that part of the pack which was divided into suits, although among the twenty-two emblematical cards named Atouts were found an Empress, and Pope Joan, and other female figures representing justice, temperance, etc. In some packs of Tarots the Queens joined the male figures; but their presence is not common, and these packs were comparatively modern. In the place now occupied by the Queen there was a Cavalier, Knight, General, Vizir, or whatever might have been the name of the male figure which was second in rank in card-land, and he had the Queen’s place and value. This was the descendant of the same warrior who in the ancient games of Chess was placed beside the King; and the position which that piece occupied was much more in accordance with the energy, the strategy, and the manœuvring to be looked for in a marshal in command of an army, than from the wife of a reigning sovereign.
Mr. Chatto states that at an early period the Italians occasionally substituted a Queen for the Cavello, and declares that the French have claimed an honour which does not belong to them when they assert that they were the first nation that had the gallantry to place a lady in the pack.
This example, set by the French or perhaps by the Italians, of placing a queen among the court cards has not been followed by other nations, nor indeed to any very great extent by the Italians themselves, who, although they sometimes included her, only do so, as a general rule, when they adopt the French cards and their symbols entirely, and discard those derived from the East, which have been clung to since their first introduction.
England was one of the few nations gallant enough to retain the lady in the national pack when it had emigrated from France and taken root in its adopted country; and England also selected a particular Queen of her own, and placed her figure among the court cards.
In one of the pictures of Elizabeth of York, wife of Henry the Seventh of England, we find the original of the quaint dress now worn by our cardboard queens. There were various reasons for the selection of this lady and her elevation to the paper throne, where she has remained, with her costume and even the colour of her hair almost unchanged, to the present day, and which a cursory examination of her history will reveal. During the lifetime of her father Edward the Fourth of England, Elizabeth was betrothed to the dauphin Charles, eldest son of Louis the Eleventh of France. At that time there was constant intercourse with the sister country, and cards may then have been first imported into England. The English princess after her contract with the heir of France was always addressed as Madame la Dauphine, and her picture may have been placed on the cards to show that she took rank as a French princess. This match was, however, suddenly terminated by the French monarch, and his rage and disappointment it is said caused her father’s death. Her marriage with his successor, which joined the two houses of York and Lancaster, who had been rival claimants for the throne of England, terminated forever the Wars of the Roses; and it may have been during the period of great rejoicing which followed this auspicious event that the royal dame who had been elevated to the position of Queen Consort was also selected to reign over card-land, where her figure, dress, and attributes are cherished to this day.
If we turn to the picture of Elizabeth of York, we shall see at a glance where the card-maker derived his inspiration for the costume of the card Queens. Over the heads of the royal dames are odd-looking head-dresses, which in the lapse of years have become rigidly conventionalized; but in them can easily be traced the resemblance to the straight lappets made of a scarf or veil richly embroidered with jewels, forming a cap and hanging on either side of the face, which forms part of the dress in the picture of Elizabeth. In it her hair, which was of a pale golden hue, is banded plainly on her forehead, and she wears a square-cut dress, which opens at her throat and has long flowing ermine-edged sleeves. One of the most important parts of the picture must be carefully noted. The Queen holds the rose of York in her hand, and this emblem has been always copied and retained.
Elizabeth of York was a most beautiful woman, and it might have been due to this fact that her picture was so eagerly copied. She died very young, having only attained her thirty-eighth year, in 1503, leaving an heir to the throne, who was afterward Henry the Eighth.
Among the names bestowed upon the Queens of the French court cards are those of Hélène, Judic, Rachael. These are found in the pack which is believed to be of the time of Louis the Twelfth. When the war with Spain took place, which was followed by the capture and imprisonment of Francis the First and his marriage with the Queen Eleanor, the ladies of the pack change their names to Lucresse, Pentaxlie, Beciabia. Again, under the reign of Henry the Second they become Argine, Pallas, etc. The effeminate reign of Henry the Third affected the dresses as well as the names on the cards. The Queens wore their hair turned back and crepé, “la robe juste à corps et a vertu garde,” and bear such names as Dido, Elizabeth, and Clotilde.
Singer relates that Pallas, as the Queen of Spades was at one time named, was intended to represent Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, as Pallas was goddess of war and of chastity, and the Maid was her worthy representative; and that Charles the Seventh, out of gratitude for the services received at her hands, caused her to be placed under the cover of the heathen goddess’s name in card-land.
Père Daniel, in his dissertation on the “Game of Piquet,” says that the Queen of Clubs is called _Argine_, from which the anagram Regina may be made, and that it is intended to represent Marie d’Anjou, wife of Charles the Seventh. Rachael was chosen to represent Agnes Sorel, whose token—the clover-leaf (_sorrel_)—was placed among the symbols of the suits. The same author fancies that Judith may be intended to represent Isabel of Bavaria, mother of Charles the Seventh and wife of Charles the Sixth.
THE KNAVE.
The Knave has always been given an original and sometimes a prominent place in the pack of cards. Although this position does not seem to have been derived directly from _Il Matto_, or the _Fool_ of the Tarots, he seems to have inherited some of the peculiarities of the latter; and in many games he is given the same position, and either takes precedence of all the other court cards or else adds to their value according to the rules of the particular game which is being played.
The word “knave” in the English language was originally used to signify a “boy.” Chaucer employs it in this sense where he says of the King of Northumberland,—
“On hire he gat a knave child;”
and this name was given by the English to the card which was called by the French _le Valet_, as they regarded the male figure which accompanied the court cards on their invasion of their country as the son of the King and Queen of the suit to which he belonged, and did not recognize his position as the court-jester or servant of the royal family. But the words “man-child” or “knave” used in the sense of “boy” soon became obsolete, and the latter is never seen in the present day except to denote a cheat, dishonest person, or the second male figure of the court cards.
To the same card is frequently given the name _Jack_. It is supposed that this name was derived from the party-coloured or buffoon’s dress worn by the Knave; the cant name for a jester being “Jack,” which was also the term used to designate a serving-man of low degree. The expression “Jack-a-napes” was probably derived from “Jack-a-Naïpes,” or Jack of the cards, _Naïpes_ being the Spanish name for the pack; and as cards were at one time imported into England quite as much from Spain as from France, it was usual to call them by the Spanish as well as the French name. Mr. Chatto declares that “Jack-a-napes” means “Jack the Knave,” and says that “this card has more affinity in character with the Spanish _Sota_ or the Italian _Faute_ than with the French _Valet_;” and he also says: “We believe that it has never been explained why the coarse and vulgar appellation of Knave was originally given to the card next in degree to the Queen. Perhaps the following account may be found a plausible one. It was usual with kings in ancient times to choose some ludicrous person with whose ridiculous and comical tricks they might be diverted in their hours of ease. This person was generally selected from the lower ranks; but choice always fell on one endowed with low cunning and humour calculated to excite mirth and laughter; and the tricks of knavery in which he was allowed free indulgence in the presence of the King gave him the appellation of King’s Fool, or Knave.”
In the German pack the Knave has been called _Landsknechte_ (Free Lancer), and from this has been derived the name of a well-known game which the French call “Lansquenet.” In early French packs the same card was sometimes termed _Trichem_, which was also the name of a formidable band of robbers who at one time committed such horrible ravages in France that the Popes were obliged to preach a crusade against them.
The grotesque dress of the Knaves of the English packs has remained almost unchanged for several hundred years. It has evidently been copied from the ordinary costumes of the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries, but no exact date can be assigned to it. It seems to consist of a short jacket with full flowing sleeves, the body being crossed by a sash, or what may have originally been intended for a strap to hold a quiver. This coat, or jacket, resembles the _gaberdine_ described by Chaucer as being the dress of the Squires in the “Canterbury Tales.” The cap, with its squarely cut or battlemented edges, turned back over an under-cap of black, which fitted closely to the head, was in common use about the end of the fifteenth century. The Knaves of to-day are cut in halves, and show two heads, which are legless; and these replace the old standing figures and the odd-looking, misshapen, party-coloured legs, which followed an ancient fashion, and showed one clothed in one colour, its fellow being dressed in a different one, with gayly striped garters and peculiarly shaped shoes.
Mr. Taylor tells a droll story, which shows how conservative people have for many years been on the subject of cards, and how they resent the smallest change in the costume, etc., of the court cards, when every other dress changes almost as soon as it is generally adopted. He says: “One of the large card-makers in London many years ago introduced a scarcely perceptible modification in the colour of the Knave’s garter. Cards were supplied, as usual, to the customers; but very soon the steward of one of the considerable clubs came rushing down in a great hurry to the shop. ‘The committee can’t think what you have been doing to the cards! All the members are complaining that they keep losing. What have you done?’ At first the card-maker said, ‘Done? Why, nothing!’ not thinking the trifling change of any importance; but on further inquiry it was found that the indescribable something the clubbists had detected confused them, and he was obliged to take back all his cards and supply those of the former sort. Such is the influence of a trifle. Since that time, however, many alterations have been introduced, and not a few improvements.”
The weapons which are placed in the hands of the Knaves have become strangely distorted with the lapse of time and through the carelessness of the card-maker. Our Knave of Hearts bears a clumsy-looking battle-axe, which looks too dull and too heavy to be of much service in case of necessity; and in the other hand he holds a laurel leaf. The Knave of Diamonds has what Falstaff calls a “Welsh hook,” which has been defined as meaning “a pike with a hook placed at some distance below its point.” The peculiar attribute of the present Knave of Spades is a twisted ribbon, and its origin has not been traced. It may originally have been a Marotte, or Fool’s Staff, around which gayly coloured ribbons were twisted, the whole surmounted with a fool’s cap. This Knave formerly bore a strange-looking instrument; but its use having become obsolete, even its form has been discarded, and the figure bears no weapon of defence, like his confrères. The strange-looking staff carried by the Knave of Clubs is supposed to have been originally intended for an arrow.
Why it is that the Knaves of Hearts and Spades should be in profile, while the others show their full face, will probably always remain a mystery; but it may be observed that the Knave of Hearts is in the same position in some very old packs, now preserved in the British Museum, to which has been attributed the date of 1440; and the same thing occurs in a picture which is prefixed to a book called “The Four Knaves,” which was published in 1613.
As has been before mentioned, the court cards of the French packs have always had names placed somewhere on the face of the card; and these names, after changing with some rapidity with the fashions of the day, have now become permanent, and for some years have been retained without the slightest variation. “Hector,” as one of the Knights is dubbed, is supposed to recall Hector de Galard, Captain of the Guard, to Louis the Eleventh of France. Some authors think that Hector, the son of Priam, is intended by this name, as on some old cards the inscription is “Hector de Troye.” Another Knave bears the name of “Roland,” which was that of a nephew of Charlemagne. “Hogier,” or Ogier, was a renowned King of Denmark. Lancelot may have at first been intended as a compliment for a Paladin of the court of Charlemagne, who was a celebrated character of his day; or perhaps Lancelot du Lac, as it was sometimes written, may have been intended for one of the Knights of King Arthur’s Round Table. La Hire, another name placed beside the Knaves, was that of the celebrated Étienne de Vignolles, who contributed so much by his valour to re-establish the tottering throne of Charles the Seventh of France. Mr. Singer says that he was surnamed La Hire. Some authors attribute the arrangement of the French pack, with the symbols of the Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, and Spades, and the black and red colours, to the same La Hire.
ACES AND OTHER CARDS.
It would seem that the name _ace_, _as_, _asso_, or at any rate some combination of letters which convey about the same sound, is given to the first card in the pack in nearly all countries where they are used. Mr. Chatto says, according to Père Daniel, the Ace is the Latin _as_, meaning “a piece of money, coin, riches;” while Bullet derives it from the Celtic, and says that it means “origin, source, beginning, or first.” A French writer of the sixteenth century, supposed to be Charles Stephens, in a work entitled “Paradoxes,” printed at Paris, 1553, says that the “Ace or Az ought to be called _Nars_, a word which in German signifies a ‘fool.’” The German word which he alludes to, continues Mr. Chatto, “is just as likely to have been the origin of Deuce as of Ace. It has also been supposed that the term ‘ace’ was derived from a Greek word signifying ‘one.’ But as this also signified an ‘ass,’ it has been conjectured that the Ace of Cards and of Dice were so called not as a designation of unity, but as signifying an ass or a fool. Those who entertain the latter opinion are said by Hyde to be asses themselves.”
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The Devil's picture-booksChapter III: Part 3
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