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:—