The Arts in the Middle Ages and at the Period of the Renaissance

by P. L. Jacob

The second pack, or fragment of a pack, which is dated back to this epoch, presents a similarity to our present cards of a yet more striking nature, at least in the characters and costumes of the figures; although the names and devices of the personages still are suggestive of their Saracenic origin. We must remark, under this head, that for several centuries the names coupled with the different personages were incessantly varying. In this pack we find “kings,” “queens,” and “knaves” of clubs, hearts, spades, and diamonds; the Saracenic crescent has disappeared. The “kings” are all holding sceptres, and the “queens” carry flowers. Everything in the representations is not only in harmony with the fashions of the period, but in addition to this, there are no violations either of the laws of heraldry or of the usages of chivalry.

According to tradition, this pack, the true piquet-pack, which superseded the Italian tarots and the cards of Charles VI., and soon became generally used in France, was the invention of Etienne Vignoles, called La Hire, one of the bravest and most active soldiers of that period. The tradition has a right to our respect, for the mere examination of this piquet-pack proves that it must have been the work of some accomplished chevalier, or at least of a mind profoundly imbued with the manners and customs of chivalry. But, without any wish to exclude La Hire, who, as the historians say, “always had his helmet on his head and his lance in his hand, ready to attack the English, and never rested until he died of his wounds,” we are led rather to ascribe the honour of this ingenious invention to one of his contemporaries, Etienne Chevalier, secretary and treasurer to the king, who was distinguished by his skill in designing. Jacques Cœur, whose commercial relations with the East brought upon him the accusation of having “sent arms to the Saracens,” might well have become the importer of Asiatic cards into France, and Chevalier might then have amused himself by applying devices to them or, as was then said, by moralising or symbolising them. In India it had been the game of the vizier and of war; the royal treasurer turned it into a pack having reference to the knight and chivalry. In the first place he placed on it his own armorial bearings, the unicorn, which figures in several ancient packs of cards. He did not forget the allusive arms of Jacques Cœur, and substituted “hearts” for the coupes. He made the “clubs” imitate the heraldic flower of Agnes Sorel; and also changed the deniers into diamonds, or arrow-heads ([Fig. 210]), and the épées into spades, to do honour to the two brothers Jean and Gaspard Bureau, grand-masters of artillery in France.

Fig. 210.—Ancient French Card of the Fifteenth Century. (Bibl. Imp., Paris.)

Fig. 211.—Specimen of a Pack of Cards of the Sixteenth Century. (Bibl. Imp., Paris.)

Etienne Chevalier, as the most skilful designer of emblems of the period, was eminently capable of substituting, in playing-cards, ladies or queens for the Oriental “viziers” or Italian “knights” which, on the tarots, figured alone among the “kings” and “knaves.” We must, however, repeat that we have no intention of depriving La Hire of the honour of the invention, and only hazard a supposition in addition to the opinion generally received.

These cards, which bear all the characteristics of the reign of Charles VII., must be looked upon as the first attempts at wood-engraving, and at printing by means of engraved blocks. They were probably executed between 1420 and 1440, that is to say, prior to most of the known xylographic productions. Playing-cards, therefore, served as a kind of introduction or prelude to printing from engraved blocks, an invention which considerably preceded the printing from movable characters.

When, however, we observe that so early as the middle of the fifteenth century playing-cards were spread all over Europe, it is but natural to imagine that some economical plan of manufacture had been discovered and employed. Thus, as we have already mentioned, Jacquemin Gringonneur, in 1392, was paid fifty-six sols of Paris, that is about £7 1s. 8d. of our present money, for three packs of tarots, painted for the King of France. One single pack of tarots, admirably painted, about the year 1415, by Marziano, secretary to the Duke of Milan, cost one thousand five hundred golden crowns (about £625); but in 1454, a pack of cards intended for the Dauphin of France cost no more than five sous of Tours (about eleven or twelve shillings). In the interval between 1392 and 1454 means had been discovered of making playing-cards at a cheap rate, and of converting them into an object of trade; mercers were accustomed to sell them together with the “pins,” which then took the place of copper and silver counters; hence the French proverb, “Tirer son épingle du jeu” (to get out of a scrape).

Although the use of playing-cards continued to extend more and more, we must not imagine that they had ceased to be the subject of prohibitory and condemnatory ordinances on the part of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities. On the contrary, a long list might be made of the decrees launched against cards themselves and those that used them. Princes and lords, as a matter of right, felt themselves above these prohibitions; the lower orders and the dissolute did not fail to infringe them. It was nevertheless the case, that in the face of these constantly-renewed prohibitions, the manufacture of playing-cards could only be developed, or rather perhaps be carried on, in some indirect mode. Thus, we find the business at first was concealed, as it were, under that of a stationer or illuminator. Not until December, 1581—that is, in the reign of Henry III.—do we find the first regulation fixing the statutes of the “master-cardmakers.” These statutes, confirmed by letters patent in 1584 and 1613, remained in force down to the (French) Revolution. In the confirmation of corporate privileges granted at the latter date, it is laid down as a rule that henceforth master-cardmakers should be bound to place their names, surnames, signs, and devices on the “knave of clubs” (Figs. [212], [213]) of every pack of cards. This prescription appears to have done nothing more than legalise an old custom—a fact which may be proved by an examination of the curious collection of ancient cards in the Print-Room of the Bibliothèque Impériale. We have already stated that for a period of many years the names given to the various personages in the pack varied constantly, according to the fancy of the cardmaker; a mere glance at the collection just mentioned will confirm this assertion.