Chapter IV: Part 4

Aces have had soubriquets or nicknames like many other cards; but these have gained favour only in certain localities. In one part of England they are called _Tib_; but the origin and meaning of this name is unknown. The Ace of Diamonds is commonly called the _Earl of Cork_ in Ireland, “because it is the worst Ace and the poorest card in the pack, and he is the poorest nobleman in the country.” In Spain the Ace of Oros is called _La Borgne_, or the “one-eyed.”

“There is luck under a black Deuce,” is a common saying among card-players. “But not if you touch it with your elbow,” is the reply; and when it is turned up as a trump, superstitious people place their elbow upon it, and quite a struggle goes on between the dealer and the opponent as to which one shall do so first. It is more than probable that the words _Deuce_ and _Tray_ may have been derived from the Spanish _Dos_ and _Tres_, which signify “two” and “three” in that language. In some German games the _Daus_ is the master card, and takes all the others. Mr. Chatto says: “The Deuce of cards, it may be observed, has no connection with the term _deuce_, as used in the familiar expression ‘To play the deuce,’ in which it is synonymous with _devil_, and is of northern origin. In some parts of the country the Deuce, although lower in value, is considered to be a more fortunate card than the Tray; and ‘There’s luck in the Deuce, but none in the Tray,’ is a frequent expression among old card-players who like to enliven the game with an occasional remark as they lay down the cards.”

In Northumberland, England, the four of Hearts at Whist is sometimes called _Hob Collingwood_, and is considered by old ladies an unlucky card. The four of Clubs is called by sailors _the Devil’s Bedposts_, and the four of Spades is named by others _Ned Stokes_. The Tray of Oros, in Spain, is called _Le Seigneur_. The Tray of Cups is _La Dame_; the Deuce is _La Vache_. The nines of Cups and of Money are the _Great and Little Nines_, and the Ace of Clubs is _Le Serpent_. In Ireland the six of Hearts is known as _Grace’s Card_, and is said to have acquired that name from the following circumstance: “A gentleman of the name of Grace being solicited with promises of royal favour to espouse the cause of William the Third, gave the following answer written on the back of the six of Hearts, to an emissary of Marshal Schomberg, who had been commissioned to make the offer to him: ‘Tell your master I despise his offer, and that honour and conscience are dearer to a gentleman than all the wealth and titles a prince can bestow.’”

“The nine of Diamonds,” continues Mr. Chatto, “is frequently called the _Curse of Scotland_, and some suppose on account of the tradition that the Duke of Cumberland wrote his sanguinary order on it after the battle of Culloden. It was, however, known by this name many years before this battle, as it is stated that about 1715 Lord Justice Clerk Ormistone, who had been zealous in suppressing the rebellion became universally hated in Scotland, where they called him ‘the curse of Scotland;’ and when ladies played the nine of Diamonds (commonly called the Curse of Scotland), they called it Justice Clark.” Other explanations are offered to account for this name, some of them being found in heraldic devices, as nine diamonds or lozenges are displayed in the arms of various distinguished men notorious for their hatred and persecution of that country. The riddle on the subject says: “_Question._ Pray why is the nine of Diamonds called the Curse of Scotland? _Answer._ Because the crown of Scotland had but nine diamonds in it, and they were never able to get a tenth.” The nine of Diamonds is the card designated to represent Pope Joan in the game known by her name. The fours have been called _Tidely_, and the fives and sixes _Towser_ and _Tumbler_.

The court cards have not escaped these soubriquets. In France the Knaves or Valets were sometimes called _les Fous_, and in Germany the horsemen or chevaliers who took the place of the Queens were designated _Ober_. In certain games the Knave of Clubs is called _Pam_; and in Euchre Knaves are called _Right_ and _Left Bower_, as they happen to fall with trumps. The Queen of Clubs has been called _Queen Bess_.

It is mentioned in “Court Life below Stairs,” by Molloy, as a curious feature of the time, and showing how far presumptuous gamblers forgot their manners and their loyalty, that during one of the attacks of lunacy suffered by the King, George the Third, great abuse of the King and Queen, and of Pitt was indulged in without reserve at Brook’s Club; and a cant phrase used at the whist-table was, “I play the lunatic,” meaning the King.

USE AND ABUSE.

Strange tales have been related of the various uses to which cards have been put, and Mr. Singer tells one of a Friar “who, thinking to pull out his Breviary, displays a pack of cards which some mischievous wit had substituted for it. Not at all disconcerted by the circumstance, he explains to the people that he makes use of them as a Breviary, and in a most ingenious manner applies the different cards to this purpose.”

There is another history of a parson who loved gaming better than his eyes, quoted by Mr. Chatto. This preacher thrust his cards up his sleeves when the clerk called him to the pulpit. “‘Tis true that in the height of his reproving his parish for their neglect of holy duties, upon the throwing out of his zealous arm, the cards dropped out of his sleeve and flew about the church. What then? He bid one boy take up a card, and asked him what it was. The boy answers, ‘The King of Clubs.’ Then he bid another boy take up another card. What was that? ‘The Knave of Spades.’ ‘Well,’ quoth he, ‘now tell me who made ye?’ The boy could not well tell. Quoth he to the next, ‘Who redeemed ye?’ That was a harder question. ‘Look ye,’ quoth the parson, ‘you think this was an accident, and laugh at it; but I did it on purpose to show you that had you taught your children their catechism as well as to know their cards, they would have been better provided to answer material questions when they come to church.’”

The story does not go on to state that this precious preacher met the fate of Ananias, as he well deserved to do.

Not many years ago in England, the following story printed on a sheet or pamphlet, was circulated among the poorer classes and was received with great favour. It was called: “Cards Spiritualized; or the Soldier’s Almanac, Bible, and Prayer-Book.”

Richard Middleton, a soldier attending divine service with the rest of a regiment at a church in Glasgow, instead of pulling out a Bible like the rest of his fellow soldiers to find the parson’s text, spread a pack of cards before him. This singular behaviour did not long pass unnoticed both by the clergyman and the sergeant of the company to which he belonged. The latter, in particular, requested him to put up the cards, and on his refusing, conducted him after church before the mayor, to whom he preferred a formal complaint of Richard’s indecent behaviour during divine service.

“Well, soldier,” said the mayor, “what excuse have you for this strange, scandalous behaviour? If you can make any apology or assign any reason for it; it is well; if you cannot, assure yourself that I will cause you without delay to be severely punished for it.”

“Since your Honour is so good,” replied Richard, “I will inform you. I have been eight days on march, with a bare allowance of sixpence a day, which your Honour will surely allow is hardly sufficient to maintain a man in meat, drink, washing, and other necessaries that consequently he may want, without a Bible, Prayer-Book, or any other good book.” On saying this, Richard drew out his pack of cards, and presenting one of the Aces to the mayor continued his address to the magistrate as follows:—

“When I see an Ace, may it please your Honour, it reminds me that there is only one God; and when I look upon a two or a three, the former puts me in mind of the Father and Son, and the latter of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. A four calls for remembrance the four evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. A five, the five wise Virgins who were ordered to trim their lamps. There were ten indeed; but five, your Worship may remember, were wise and five were foolish. A six, that in six days God created heaven and earth. A seven, that on the seventh day he rested from all he had made. An eight, of the eight righteous persons preserved from the deluge; namely, Noah and his wife, with his three sons and their wives. A nine, of the nine lepers cleansed by our Saviour. There were ten, but only one returned to offer his tribute of thanks. And a ten, of the ten commandments that God gave Moses on Mount Sinai, on the two tables of stone.” He took the Knave and put it aside. “When I see the Queen it reminds me of the Queen of Sheba, who came forth from the farthermost parts of the world to hear the wisdom of Solomon, for she was as wise a woman as he was a man, for she brought fifty boys and fifty girls, all clothed in girls’ apparel, to stand before King Solomon, for him to test which were boys and which were girls; but he could not until he called for water to wash themselves. The girls washed up to their elbows, and the boys only up to the wrists of their hands; so King Solomon told by that. And when I see the King it puts me in mind of the great King of heaven and earth, which is God Almighty; and likewise his Majesty King George the Fourth, to pray for him.”

“Well,” said the mayor, “you have given a good description of all the cards save one, which is lacking.”

“Which is that?” said the soldier.

“The Knave,” said the mayor.

“If your Honour will not be angry with me,” returned Richard, “I can give you the same satisfaction on that as on any in the pack.”

“No,” said the mayor.

“Well,” returned the soldier, “the greatest Knave I know is the serjeant who brought me before you.”

“I don’t know,” said the mayor, “whether he be the greatest Knave or no, but I am sure he is the greatest fool.”

The soldier then continued: “When I count the number of dots in a pack of cards, there are three-hundred and sixty-five,—as many days as there are in the year. When I count how many cards there are in a pack, I find there are fifty-two,—so many weeks are there in a year. When I reckon how many tricks are won by a pack, I find there are thirteen,—so many months are there in a year. So that this pack of cards is both Bible, Almanack, and Prayer-Book to me.”

The mayor called his servants, ordered them to entertain the soldier well, gave him a piece of money, and said he was the cleverest fellow he ever heard in his life.

There are several variations of this story, one being written in the French language and in rhyme; but as their theme is nearly identical with the one quoted, it is unnecessary to repeat them.

It is supposed that the visiting-card now in common use derived its origin from a custom, quoted by Mr. Taylor, of writing messages on the backs of playing-cards,—a practice which is mentioned in the “Spiritual Quixote,” a novel of George the Third’s time. This practice is also mentioned in “Henry Esmond,” where an invitation is sent on a ten of Diamonds; and it was not confined to the novelist’s world, as it was evidently the custom in America before the Revolution, for some of these invitations still exist and are treasured among family relics. There is one belonging to an American family which bears an invitation from Sir Jeffrey Amherst, printed on the back of the King of Clubs, to one of the fair damsels of his day; and this was dated 1769. Another card which apparently belonged to the same pack bore on its back an invitation to dinner from the same General to Mr. Ten Eyck for this same anniversary of Saint George’s Day. It seems a strange coincidence that both these cards should have been sent to the author,—one of them coming from Boston; the other from Cazenovia, New York, where it was found in an old iron chest belonging to the Ten Eyck family. Another invitation card which is treasured in New York, carried an invitation from Miss Kitty and Miss Anna Livingston to Miss Laurence. These ladies are the ancestors of many well known townspeople, and the date of the invitation must have been about the same as that one issued by Sir Jeffrey Amherst, showing that it was a common practice during the middle of the last century to use playing-cards on which to write invitations.

Playing-cards have also been used to carry on their surface important messages; as before mentioned, the message written by the Duke of Cumberland was on a playing-card (the nine of Diamonds).

The fascination that games have for some people led to their being carried into queer places and strange company. The preacher’s catastrophe and the soldier’s apology have already been related; but cards have been played on the battle-field as well as by the home fireside, they have been used when travelling and even at the play, as one writer mentions that during a visit in Florence he was invited to join a game in an opera-box, where he was told that “good music added greatly to the pleasure of a whist-party, that it increased the joy of good fortune and soothed the affliction of the bad.”

One writer has described a visit to a temple in Thibet, in which he found among other decorations “a couple of old playing-cards,”—the Knave of Hearts and the Ace of Acorns. Whether these were worshipped by the natives or considered as decorations, he could not discover.

The descendants of Lady Katherine Alexander, daughter of Major-Gen. Lord Sterling and wife of Col. William Duer, relate the following anecdote of her. The dame was fond of the rubber at Whist; and it is probable that in the beginning of the century cards were not as common nor as cheap as they are now, and that ladies carried their own packs with them to card-parties. At any rate, one morning while attending services at St. Paul’s Church, New York, her Ladyship pulled her handkerchief out of her capacious pocket, and with it drew out a pack of cards, which, to the amusement of her neighbours and her own consternation, flew about the pew. Her mischievous sons never lost an opportunity of reminding her of the circumstance and teasing her about it.

PIPS, SUITS, AND COLOURS.

The emblems on the cards have been, since 1656, called _pips_, or _peeps_, and sometimes _points_; the former is the term generally used by card-makers and players, by which they designate the symbols at the present day.

The manufacturers call the court cards _têtes_; but this name has not been adopted among players. They are also frequently named _coat cards_,—a term which is supposed to be derived from the coats worn by the figures, in contradistinction to the other designs, which were sometimes flowers and animals as well as the symbols familiar to our eyes.

Many old and curious packs have survived the hard usage they were called upon to endure not only in the course of play, but also by their having been impressed into the book-binders’ service, which has in many cases been the fortunate means of their being preserved to be prized and studied at the present day; and there are valuable collections in European museums which contain rare specimens of cards, not only delicately painted like the most beautiful miniatures on parchment and other materials, but also exquisitely engraved; and among them are some of the first specimens of that art.

The pack painted by Gringonneur, which has already been fully described, is in Paris; but this is a Tarot pack, which seems to have been the one in use at the French Court just before playing-cards in their modern dress were adopted. The cards prepared for the use of the French King, which were the first to be divided into suits and marked with the symbols of Hearts, Diamonds, Spades, and Clubs, are also preserved in the same place.

In the print-room of the British Museum is a portion of a pack which has the German marks of suits. These cards are stencilled and not printed or painted, and are supposed to date from 1440. They were discovered, as so many others have been, in the cover of an old book. There is another pack dated 1790, manufactured by Rowley & Co. “In it the Spade” (to quote from Mr. Taylor) “is a kind of dagger, of a clumsy, inconvenient form. The Ace of Clubs is a clover-leaf in an oval. Diamonds clearly point to the original conventionalized form, being a veritable diamond, lozenge-shaped, with the facets of the cutting shown in relief. This idea of a quadrangular shape is involved in all the names of the Diamond suit, whether it be panes of glass or paving-tiles. Clubs,” he declares, “has always been an anomaly.”

The colours used in cards vary with the pips or the caprices of the card-makers. In the curious old pack mentioned by Mr. Singer, which dates from 1500 and perhaps earlier, there are only two colours used, and these were red and green; but they were not intended to mark the suits, they were used only on the costumes of the court-card figures. Some early Italian cards mentioned by Zani in his book entitled “Le Carte Parlante,” were executed with a pale ink of a grayish tint, while others were printed with very black ink.

The Germans now call two of their suits _Roth_ and _Grün_, or Red and Green, the emblems of which are a heart and a leaf.

There is still in existence a curious pack of cards which were presented to Capt. D. Cromline Smith by a Brahmin of India in 1815, which is mentioned by Mr. Chatto. They were supposed to be a thousand years old. The Brahmin considered them to be a great curiosity, as they had been in his family from time immemorial. He did not know whether or not they were perfect, but believed that originally there were two more colours or suits. He said they were not the same as the modern cards, that none knew how to play with them, and that no books give any account of them. The pack consists of eight suits, each containing two honours and ten common cards. The backs are green, and they are painted in many different colours. Mr. Chatto remarks, that if they are even one hundred years old they must have been preserved with great care, and he is inclined to doubt their extreme antiquity.

The oldest set of French Piquet cards, known as the “Corsube pack,” which were invented about 1425, or nearly five hundred years ago, are engraved on wood and coloured. The outlines are printed in pale ink, and the colours appear to have been applied by means of a stencil. A beautiful pack engraved on copper in the latter quarter of the fifteenth century was not intended to be coloured, as the symbols which marked the suits distinguished them without resorting to different hues.

Among other useful inventions, cards have been made for blind people, on the surface of which the pips were raised so as to be easily distinguished by aid of the fingers.

Within the past twenty-five years various alterations have been made in the cards. The court or face cards have been cut in halves, and so arranged that whatever end turns up in the hand the heads are always uppermost. The old figures showing the whole body are now only made for Faro (or Pharaoh) players. The custom of placing the numbers of the cards in their left-hand upper corner has lately crept in, having been demanded by Poker players, who glance rapidly at their hands and close them before betting on them. These cards are known to the card-makers as “Indexed,” but are commonly called “Squeezers.”

Although M. la Croix has declared that Étienne la Vignolles, sometimes called La Hire, who is supposed to have arranged the pack with the pips of Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds, and Spades, was inspired chiefly in his choice of these symbols by his heraldic knowledge and his military tastes, and that his Spades and Hearts were shields, and his Diamonds arrow-heads, it is worth noting that the Germans had chosen nearly identical devices to mark their suits, and that the Acorn is a Club, and Leaves and Hearts so closely resemble Spades and the French Cœur, that the similarity in form can hardly be due to a caprice of the card-maker or the fancies of a military man.

Cards have by many people been regarded for centuries with a superstitious awe, and accorded supernatural powers of divination; and it seems more probable that the devices were suggested by various symbols which were probably constantly before the eyes of men of the Middle Ages, particularly in churches or houses devoted to religious purposes.

Mr. Baring-Gould, in his “Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,” mentions the discovery in 1850 of a Gallo-Roman palace near Pau in France. In one of the rooms the pavement consisted of squares which were ornamented with crosses of different shapes. Those of Saint Andrew “terminated in either a heart-shaped leaf or a trefoil.” Here then may be seen the various devices adopted by the card-maker. On the “Carreaux,” or diamond-shaped tiles, were displayed Clubs, Hearts, and Spades, beneath the feet of the worshipper in his church or the courtier in the palace; and to transfer the emblems to the card in place of the symbols used by the Oriental was an easy matter. The “Club,” as we name it, is a favourite emblem of the Trinity, which has been used for centuries as its symbol; and we need not search for an Agnes Sorel or a Saint Patrick as the first to use the clover-leaf, and fancy that the French courtier meant to compliment the King’s mistress by placing her device among the cards. It might just as well have been directly the reverse, and that she, seeing how pretty the leaf and how appropriate the pun on her name, might have adopted it from the card pips. It is quite possible that beside the Tarot cards there were others in use about the fifteenth century, and that their emblems became favourites in France and Germany, while Italy and Spain clung to those seen in the Saracen pack.

ODDS AND ENDS.

Among the other extravagant fashions of the French Court from the time of Charles the Sixth to that of Louis the Sixteenth, that of decorating the card-room, its furniture, accessories, and even the cards themselves, was by no means the least. It was perhaps fitting that the place in which enormous sums of money changed hands should be decorated as a shrine to the God of Play, and it is certain that they were luxuriously furnished and magnificently adorned. Under Louis the Fourteenth the cloths were of green velvet embroidered in gold and enriched with bullion fringes. The counters were of various metals,—mother of pearl, or other valuable substances. We read of a pack embroidered on white satin enriched with silver, and another one engraved on mother of pearl. Some of the more luxurious among the aristocracy ordered their cards from the most famous miniature painters of the day, in order to differ as widely as possible from the roughly produced and cheap cards used by the common people; and of course for these cards enormous prices were given. The decorations of the card-rooms were in harmony with the accessories of the tables, and tapestries were designed and woven to accord with the scenes which they surrounded; even within a few years one of the modern palaces in Europe has been adorned with mural decorations which represented the court cards of obsolete packs; and the four Knaves in picturesque costumes, life size and beautifully designed and executed, surround the card-room.

The tables were at first covered with green cloths which hung down and were held in place by their bullion fringes; but these covers were soon discarded, and the cloth was carefully pasted on the top of the table. Much ingenuity was expended in making the card-tables as handsome as were all the other details of the room. They were inlaid with beautiful woods, painted by celebrated artists, and richly ornamented in many other ways. They are nearly always square or partly rounded in shape, but are sometimes octagonal or three-cornered.

Mazarin seized on cards, which he was passionately fond of, as a means of instructing the young King Louis, and adopted the educational series, inducing the eight-year-old monarch to study history, geography, and other sciences by their means. This early introduction to cards led to their becoming the ruling passion of the life of that “Grand Monarch;” and under his reign the rage for cards reached a great height, and enormous sums were lost and gained. Mazarin was himself a notorious gambler; and his niece, although left an enormous fortune by her Cardinal uncle, died insolvent, the greater part of her money having been lost at cards. When Louis Quatorze reached the age of manhood, every evening from six until ten o’clock was passed in play. Even when engaged in necessary business, the game proceeded, the King deputing some of his courtiers to hold his cards during his absence. The knights of the green cloth being in such favour, a card-ball was proposed and given at Marley, Feb. 19, 1700, at which one dance was performed by the courtiers, who were dressed like the court cards of the pack. As Marley was the palace above all others in which gambling was carried to the highest extent, it was, says the historian, “the appropriate theatre for such an event.”

The rage for playing cards was at one time as great in England as in France. James the First forbade cards in Scotland; but it was his favourite amusement. Charles the First did not disdain to create a monopoly of playing-cards by buying all those produced by the Card-makers’ Company of London, and selling them out at a much higher price. Cards sold in 1545 for twopence a pack, and they must have been wretched specimens. The marriage of Charles to a French princess in 1629 may have introduced Piquet into England; it is mentioned in a book printed in 1649, at the same time with Cribbage.

The Roundheads professed to despise all frivolous amusements, and considered them sinful, although the early Christians evidently did not look on Dice and such games in the same light, as recent excavations in the Catacombs show that the graves there contained various implements of sport. “Dice-counters and gambling-boards,” says a recent writer, “have been discovered in Christian tombs”; and the boards, with their gay and inspiriting inscriptions (“Victus leva te; ludere nescis; da lusori locum,” “Domine, frater hilaris semper ludere tabula”), do not differ at all from those with which the heathen had made merry. In the Domitilla Catacomb has been found the tomb of a master in the art of making Dice.

After the restoration of Charles the Second the court cards resumed their sway, and from that time to the accession of Queen Victoria, reigned supreme, from court circles down to the gypsies in their encampment in the fields. The rage for play reached such a pitch during the latter years of the reign of George the Third, that the Regent, his brothers, and his friends were all deeply involved in debt.

A story is related of the famous Dowager Electress of Saxony, who was devoted to the card-table and was not above taking advantage of her position and using it when opportunity offered. She one evening “committed some irregularity” (as cheating is termed when indulged in by a person of exalted rank), and excited suspicions of her honesty by her play. A courtier took notice of this, at which she expressed her surprise; thereupon he remarked, “Pardon, madame, my suspicions could not fall on you. _Sovereigns_ cheat only for _crowns_.”

Napoleon tried to while away the tedious hours of his captivity by playing cards. His favourite games were Vingt-et-un, Piquet, and Whist. The counters used for the last game were always of gold, and these have been carefully treasured by the descendants of his jailers. A nine of Hearts upon which he had written some English sentences is also preserved. It is related that he never entered on any enterprise or military operation without consulting a peculiar pack of cards, which were not provided with the customary marks of suits, and in fact were not divided into suits at all. These cards, which have been carefully preserved, were sent to the author for inspection. They were smaller than those generally used, and were printed in black on yellow pasteboard. Each card was surrounded with the signs of the Zodiac, and was divided by a black line drawn through its centre, and always contained two little pictures, one above and one below this line. Rings, Hearts, Roses, Cupids, Ladies, Kings, and Queens were displayed on these cards; but it was evident that they were not intended to be used for any game, and were only for purposes of divination. The cards were torn, and showed marks of age; and if not the pack originally used by the celebrated general, they may have resembled those he was said to have consulted and believed in.

THE END.