derived from one which means “flat” or “even;” but an ancient Spanish
dictionary states that it comes from the initial letters of the name
of the Spanish inventor of cards, N. P., Nicolas Pepin. This etymology
seems fanciful and as unsatisfactory as the claim to the invention of
the cards; but the Spaniards can point to a statute made by John the
First, King of Castile, in 1387, which prohibits “games of dice, of
Naypes, and of Chess;” and this proves beyond dispute that at that date
they were at least well known in that place.
A Flemish traveller named Eckeloo, who lived about 1540, describes the
Spaniards of his time as “most passionately fond of gambling,” and says
that he “travelled many leagues in Spain without being able to procure
the necessaries of life, not even bread or wine, but that in every
miserable village cards were to be bought.” Travellers of the present
day describe the tradespeople, fishermen, and beggars of every wretched
town playing even at the street-corners, and using blocks of stone or
the steps of the churches on which to throw their cards.
It was the Spaniards without doubt who carried cards into Mexico,
when they conquered that country in 1519; and history mentions that
Montezuma took great pleasure in watching the Spanish soldiers at their
games.
Mr. Singer says that the Spanish pack consists, like the German, of
only forty-eight cards, as they contain no _tens_. Their four suits are
named _Espadas_ (Spades), _Copas_ (Cups), _Oros_ (Money), and _Bastos_
(Maces). _Oros_ means literally “golden money;” and this suit is also
called _Dineros_,—that is, “money in general.” Like the Italian and
German packs, they have no Queen, her place being taken by the usual
Knight, or Mounted horseman. The court cards are called _Il Rey_
(King), _Caballo_ (Knight), and _Sota_ (Knave). There are some packs
in which a Queen is permitted, the suits then having four court cards
instead of three.
FRANCE.
Among the archives preserved in the Chambre des Comptes in Paris
there was at one time an account, dated 1392, which said, “Paid to
Jacquemin Gringonneur, Painter, for three packs of cards of gold and
different colours, ornamented with different devices for the King
[Charles the Sixth], for his amusement, 50 sols parisis.”
[Illustration: Plate 9.]
The game, which was invented merely as an amusement for the deranged
King, spread with such rapidity among the people that the Prevôt de
Paris, in an ordinance dated Jan. 22, 1397, was obliged to “forbid
working people from playing tennis, ball, _cards_, or ninepins,
excepting only on holidays.” Especial notice should be taken of
the fact that in a celebrated and oft-quoted ordinance made only
twenty-eight years previously by Charles the Fifth, in which all games
of hazard were enumerated, no allusion whatever was made to _cards_,
while in the fifteenth century they are always carefully mentioned when
games of chance are enumerated. By this we can place approximately the
date of their invention or introduction into France.
Although packs of Tarots have survived since the fifteenth century,
and one in particular will be described, there are no existing
specimens of the original Tarots (Tarocchi, Tarocchini); but there is a
pack which was engraved by a burin (or graving-tool), that probably was
executed about the year 1460, which is known to be an exact copy of the
first Tarots.
Rafael Maffie, who lived at the end of the fifteenth century, left
in his “Commentaries” a description of Tarots, which were then, said
he, “a new invention;” but he probably was speaking relatively of the
origin of cards. From his description and the documents of others it
is clear that the pack of Tarots was composed of four or five suits,
each one of the ten cards being numbered in sequence, and displaying as
their symbols the Denari, the Bastoni, the Coppe, and the Spade; and
these suits were headed by the court cards of King, Knight, and Knave,
to which was sometimes added a Queen. Besides these cards, which were
_en suite_, there were others which bore fanciful figures, and which
were named Atouts. The Tarots have been so fully described in another
place that it is not necessary to repeat the description here.
A very slight knowledge of the history of playing-cards reveals the
fact that Tarots were known in France long before the invention of the
game of Piquet, which is undoubtedly of French origin; and besides
this, the cards which are said to have belonged to Charles the Sixth
are Tarots, and must be classed as such. They are preserved in the
Cabinet des Estampes de la Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris, and they
may be looked upon with respect as being the oldest in any collection,
public or private. Although nearly five hundred years of age, they are
well preserved.
Besides the Tarot pack, which is supposed to have been one of the three
packs that were painted by Gringonneur, there are preserved in the
same museum parts of another old pack which show distinctly that they
are of a later date. These cards are essentially French, and are not
to be classed among the Tarots. There are a King, Queen, and Knave in
each suit. Their Saracenic origin may still be traced, as they bear
the crescent of the Mussulman instead of the carreau (diamond) of the
Frenchman; and the Club is shaped after the Arabic or Moorish fashion,
which had four equal branches, like a four-leaved clover, instead of
the three leaves that were afterward adopted as the distinctive symbol
of the suit.
Another noticeable peculiarity is that the King of Hearts is
represented as a monkey covered with hair or skins, and he leans on
a knobby staff. The Queen of his suit is dressed in skins like her
consort, and in one hand she carries a torch. It would seem natural
that the Knave of Hearts should be dressed to correspond with the royal
personages belonging to his suit; but instead it is the Knave of Clubs
who is represented as covered with hair or dressed in skins, and he
carries a knotty stick over one shoulder. A part of another card has
been found among those that the book-binder’s knife has separated from
the proper body (for these cards, like so many of their kind, once
formed part of the binding of a book); and this one shows the legs only
of a fourth hairy person. The upper part has unfortunately never been
found.
With the exception of these savages, all the other figures of the pack
are dressed after the fashion of the court of Charles the Seventh of
France. The costume of the Queen of Diamonds resembles that of Marie
d’Anjou, his consort. The figures of the Kings, with the exception of
the hairy one, are dressed precisely like the pictures of Charles the
Seventh or the lords of his court. They wear a velvet hat surmounted
by a crown formed of fleurs-de-lis, with a coat opened in front and
bordered with ermine. The doublet is tight-fitting, and the boots
extremely high. The dresses of the Knaves are copies of those worn by
the pages and the sergent-d’armes of the period. One of them wears a
plumed cap and a long coat with flowing sleeves. The other Knave is in
court dress, and is the complete opposite of his fellow, as he wears
a closely fitting doublet. The latter carries a banner on which is
displayed the name of the manufacturer, F. Clerc. It seems therefore
safe to conclude that these cards are of French origin. And now occurs
an interesting question, which is, how it is possible to explain the
presence of the savage King, Queen, and Knave among the other court
cards, which are all dressed in the height of the fashion of the period
of Charles the Seventh; but if the history of the preceding reign is
referred to, the probable solution of this enigma will be found.
On the 29th of February, 1392, a grand fête was held in the palace
of Queen Blanche, given in honour of the marriage of the Chevalier
Vermandois to one of her Majesty’s maids of honour. The King, Charles
the Sixth, who had been for some time in a melancholy state of mind
which sometimes amounted to madness, was for the time being enjoying
a lucid interval, and was induced to enter into a frolic which was
proposed by one of his favourite courtiers by the name of Hugonin de
Janzay. It was arranged that in this masquerade the King and five of
his lords should take part. “It was,” says Juvenal des Ursins, “a
_momerie_ of savage men, heavily chained and dressed in _justes au
corps_ made of linen which had been greased and covered with hairs,
and which was made to fit close to the body.” Froissart, who was an
eyewitness of this fête, says that “the six actors in the dance rushed
into the ball-room howling and shaking their clattering chains.” As
no one was able to recognize the hairy monsters, so well were they
disguised, the Duc d’Orleans, the King’s brother, seized a lighted
torch from the hands of an attendant, and pressed it so closely against
one of these strange people that the light set fire to the linen coat,
which blazed up immediately. By great good fortune the King had become
separated from his companions, all of whom with only one exception were
roasted alive. This lucky chevalier rushed from the room, and flung
himself head first into a vat full of water and thus saved his life.
Charles indeed escaped; but the horrors of the situation, combined with
the terror, fatigue, and grief to which it gave rise, so impressed his
already enfeebled mind that he became hopelessly insane.
The Ballet des Ardents left such a vivid impression on the public
mind that sixty years later a German engraver made it the subject of
a print, so that it is not hazarding an inadmissible guess to fancy
that a card-maker of the day should seize upon it for a subject,
particularly as the cards of the period were sometimes decorated like
the horrible Dance of Death, as if they were intended to awaken in
the mind of the roystering player some thoughts which might lead him
to dwell on more serious subjects, and by means of the cards to reach
persons who might otherwise never be drawn to think of them.
There is another and very important fact which must not be overlooked
when we are endeavoring to trace a resemblance between the savages
depicted on the cards and the personages of the day. The Queen of
Hearts is represented as a wild woman holding a torch; and it may be
remembered that Isabella of Bavaria, the wife of Charles the Sixth, had
agreed to this fatal masquerade, and had encouraged it by her presence,
and that this frolic came very near relieving her of her insane
consort. Her accomplice in this scheme was the Duc d’Orleans, her
brother-in-law, who may have intentionally set fire to the inflammable
clothes of these savages, among whom was the King. The gossip of the
day certainly accused these two persons with having designed the
masquerade with the hope of ridding themselves of the King, whose life
interfered greatly with their infamous projects.
Having described what is perhaps the oldest pack of cards which
have been preserved, attention must be drawn to another—or rather a
fragment of a pack—which is very little, if any, younger than the set
already studied. These cards can be traced back to the same period as
the first, and are identified by the costumes of the court. They bear
great similarities to the modern cards, and are supposed to have been
the Adams and Eves of the card world. These are absolutely the first
specimens of the French suit cards; the marks of the pips, Clubs,
Hearts, Spades, and Diamonds are here displayed for the first time; and
if not the pack rearranged by the French courtier, they must have been
manufactured at the same time. In these the Kings, Queens, and Knaves
bear attributes as well as symbols. The first-named carry spears,
and the Queens flowers, and everything in the pictures reflects the
fashions of the period; and in them can be discovered no violation of
the laws of heraldry or the customs of chivalry.
Tradition points to this pack as that first used in Piquet. It
dethroned the Italian Tarots and the cards of Charles the Sixth, and
was the ancestor of the present cards. It is believed that they were
the invention of Étienne Vignoles, or La Hire, one of the bravest
and most active warriors of the day. M. la Croix declares that this
tradition should receive respectful attention, because even a cursory
examination of the game of Piquet shows that it could only have been
the work of an accomplished knight, or have at least originated in a
mind intimately acquainted with chivalrous manners and customs. But
this charming French author points to another courtier, a contemporary
and friend of Vignoles, who might have made the ingenious discovery
or invention which resulted in the overthrow of the ancient Tarots;
and this was Étienne Chevalier, secretary and treasurer to the King,
and famous for his talent for designing, who was one of the cleverest
draughtsmen of his day, and who was perfectly capable of rearranging
the pack, introducing a Queen in place of the Vizir or Knight, and
adopting symbolic colours and distinguishing devices to mark the suits.
The original cards may perhaps have been imported into France and
introduced at court by one Jacques Cœur, whose commercial relations
with the East were so extensive that he was even accused of supplying
the Saracens with arms. In India the cards represented the game of
the Vizir and of War, but under the hands of the royal secretary it
became the game of the Knight and of Chivalry. He placed on the cards
the unicorn which is often found in old packs; nor did he forget to do
honour to Jacques Cœur in substituting _les cœurs_ for _les coupes_. He
changed the _deniers_ (money) to diamonds (or arrow-heads), and spears
to spades. He may have adapted his designs from those on the German
cards, as they bear hearts like the French packs; and a few strokes of
the pencil would convert the acorn of the former into the club of the
latter. The affinity between the cards of the two countries is quite
apparent, but to whom we owe the invention is undecided.
It was in December, 1581, or in the reign of Henry the Third, that
the first laws which fix the standing of the _fesseurs de cartes_ are
found. These statutes, which were confirmed by letters-patent in 1584
and 1613, remained in force until the Revolution. When the privileges
of the Corporation were confirmed in 1613, a rule was made that the
master card-makers should henceforth and forever put their names,
surnames, seals, and devices on the _Valet de Trifle_ (Knave of Clubs)
in each pack of cards,—a rule which only followed and confirmed an
ancient custom, and one which is adopted to the present day.
The modern French cards differ slightly from those used in England and
America, as they are smaller, and the edges are rounded and generally
gilded. The cards, instead of being perfectly flat, are slightly
curved; and this is in order to facilitate shuffling, which is not done
in France in the way usually adopted among English-speaking nations,
where the pack is divided and laid on a flat surface, and the edges of
the cards are lifted and allowed to pass quickly one over the other,
in this way distributing or shuffling them very rapidly. The French
cards are divided, but held up, and the sides of the two parts pressed
together, which shuffles them effectually, but which it is impossible
to do if the cards are not curved.
ENGLAND.
Some of the most interesting collections of old playing-cards
can be seen in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, the South Kensington
Museum, and the British Museum in London. The latter collection has a
historian of its own; and the variety, number, and beauty of the packs
in this place are minutely recorded, and form an interesting study by
themselves. By their aid it is possible to note the various changes and
modifications which have crept in among the costumes of the court, and
the pips of the suit cards. The early packs seem to have been imported
from Spain, as they bear the old symbols of _coin_, _maces_, _swords_,
and _cups_. Other packs have been found which were stencilled with the
_grelots_ (bells) commonly found on the early German cards; but finally
the French card came into common use, and these were adopted and have
been universally accepted in England, and by her introduced into her
colonies, so that these marks of Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, and Spades
are found all over the globe.
[Illustration: Plate 10.]
The English and American card of the present day differs slightly from
those in use in France. The latter have discarded obsolete costumes and
fanciful devices when designing the figures of the court cards, and
the dresses are modernized, the faces are shaded, and the whole figure
looks more like a pretty picture than the cherished card dear to the
heart of the Englishman, whose Kings are dressed somewhat after the
fashion of Henry the Eighth, the Queens like his mother, Elizabeth of
York, and the Knaves in the costume adopted by the lower classes in the
days of Chaucer.
It is perhaps to the overthrow of the court-card family during the
French Revolution that this radical change in their costumes is due.
When the monarchs of the suits were beheaded and their places taken
by the sages, philosophers, etc., of the day, it was natural that
the obsolete costumes should disappear with them, and that when the
royalties of card-land returned to their thrones, the card-maker should
adopt the costumes then in fashion in which to clothe the royal family.
There having been no such disaster in England, the Kings of the cards
have peacefully ruled for several hundred years, clad in the garments
of their ancestors, which have only become quainter and more peculiar
with the lapse of years, so that now they are often merely lines and
dots, and are hardly to be recognized as ermine-trimmed garments which
were originally covered with correct heraldic devices.
[Illustration: Plate 11.]
The first introduction of cards into England (for it has never been
claimed that they were invented there) is a matter of dispute; but it
is probable that they were known in that country soon after the Second
Crusade, at the latter end of the thirteenth century. A passage has
been found in the Wardrobe Rolls of Edward the First (1278) which is
pointed to by some writers who wish to prove that cards were adopted in
England before they were known in other countries; and they claim that
this is the earliest mention of a game of cards in any authenticated
register. In this account is recorded the following passage: “Waltero
Sturton ad opus regis ad ludendum ad _Quatuor Reges_ viii. s. vd.”
But it by no means follows that “Four Kings” meant cards; it might
have been any game, and may have been intended for Chess played with
four armies, each one headed by a king,—a game which is by no means
obsolete, and which has already been described. Edward the First had
served in Syria for five years before his accession to the throne
of England, and some writers assert that he brought cards home with
him; but Chaucer, who died in 1400, never mentions cards, although in
enumerating the amusements of the day he says,—
“They dancen and they play at chess and tables.”
The year 1465 is the earliest date at which any positive mention is
made of cards in England, and this was in a law which forbade their use
except at certain specified times and seasons.
It is probable that cards first made their way into the country from
Spain, as the oldest packs which have been found in England bear the
symbols of _cups_, _money_, _maces_, _swords_; and the word _spade_
(the Spanish name for one of their suits) seems to have become attached
to the French _pique_ after the cards of the latter nation became
domiciled in the British Isles.
Mr. Singer, quoting from another author, says that “there is little
doubt but that the cards used during the reign of Philip and Mary and
probably the more early part of Elizabeth’s were Spanish, though they
were afterwards changed for the French, being of a more simple figure
and more easily imported.” The wars between England and France, during
which the army of the former nation were in their sister country, may
have led to the adoption of the French card; but it is strange that the
costumes on the English cards should date from an earlier period than
the reign of Mary or Elizabeth.
“Queen Elizabeth as well as her sister Mary,” says Mr. Chatto, “was a
card-player,” and lost her temper over the game, in which she did not
resemble Queen Anne of Austria, of whom one of her ladies-in-waiting,
Madame de Motteville, says: “She played like a queen, without passion
of greed or gain.” During Elizabeth’s reign, in 1582, the Master of
the Revels was commanded “to show on St. Stephen’s day at night before
her Majesty at Wyndesore a Comodie or Morral devised on a game of the
cardes,” to be performed by the children of her Majesty’s Chapel.
In the comedy “Alexander and Campaspe,” which was shown by the same
children at Windsor before the Queen, was the following pretty little
song, quoted by Mr. Chatto:—
“Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses. Cupid paid.
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother’s doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on ’s cheek (but none knows how);
With these the chrystal on his brow
And then the dimple of his chin;—
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes.
She won, and Cupid blind doth rise.
Oh, Love, has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?”
“It is probable that Primero was one of the earliest games of cards
played in England,” says Mr. Singer; “and it continued to be the most
fashionable one throughout the reigns of Henry the Eighth, Edward the
Sixth, Mary, Elizabeth, and James.” Shakspeare makes Falstaff say,—
“I never prospered since I forswore myself at Primero;”
showing that it was a well known game at that period. “An alteration or
improvement of this game became,” says the same author, “known as El
Hombre (The man), or Ombre, which is the national game of Spain.” It
was played generally by three persons, at small three-cornered tables;
and these little card-tables are frequently found among collections of
old furniture.
That Ombre, or its successor, Quadrille, was a fashionable game at no
very ancient period, is proved by the inimitable description given
in Cranford of the card-parties held in that mildewed little place.
It says: “The drawing-rooms contained small tables, on which were
displayed a kaleidoscope, conversation cards, puzzle cards (tied
together to an interminable length with faded pink satin ribbon). The
card-table was an animated scene to watch,—four old ladies’ heads, with
niddle-noddling caps all nearly meeting over the middle of the table in
their eagerness to whisper quick enough and loud enough, ‘Basto, madam,
you have Spadille, I believe.’”
[Illustration: Plate 12.]
A game much in favour among the common folks at the latter end of the
sixteenth century was, says Singer, “an old one called Trump, which was
probably the Triumfo of the Spaniards and Italians.” In that amusing
performance “Gammer Gurton’s Needle,” first acted in 1561, Dame Chat
says to Diccon,—
“We sat at _trump_ man by the fire;”
and afterward to her maid she says,—
“There are five _trumps_ besides the Queen.”
Trump bore some resemblance to Whist or Ruff (another name for that
game); and it is noticeable that these two words should still be used
in playing Whist, and that both of them signify the same thing. We
are told by Mr. Singer that Whist and Honours (alias Slam) were games
commonly known in all parts of England, and that “every child of eight
years old has competent knowledge in that recreation.”