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.
[Illustration: Plate 22.]
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.
[Illustration: Plate 23.]
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.
[Illustration: Plate 24.]
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.