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.”
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.