THE DEVIL AND THE TWO OF HEARTS

Annotated and updated version of a talk given before the Annual Convention of the IPCS, Issy-les-
Moulineaux, Saturday, 23 September, 2006.

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/TitlePageCard.jpg

Some new documentary discoveries of magical or "superstitious" use of cards from the earliest
centuries deserve to be shared with the IPCS. These are not isolated or unexpected uses, when
understood in the context of the early use of printed images. The material can be divided into two
broad areas - devotional use and magic, and divination. While this is an arbitrary distinction, since
divination is a category of magic, it helps me present the material.

I. Jean Jordain

The title for my talk comes from the following story about Jean Jordain. Jean Jordain was a young
man who was tried in 1614 for witchcraft and sacrilege, part of which was making a pact with the
Devil on two playing cards, a two of hearts and a four of hearts. This is the only example of such a
pact that I know of.

The trial of Jean Jordain took place in Blaye, on the Gironde north of Bordeaux in 1614. An account of
the events was related by the jurist Pierre de l'Ancre in 1622, in his book "L'incredulite et mescréance
du sortilège, plainement convaincue" (The disbelief and misbelief in witchcraft, plainly convinced).

Pierre de l'Ancre was born in Bordeaux in 1553. He studied law and philosophy in France, Bohemia
and Turin. He became councilor to the Bordeaux parliment at the age of 29 in 1582, and in 1588 he
married Michel de Montaigne's grand-niece. He was well acquainted with the leading intellectuals and
political figures of his day. Because of his familiarity with the region, in 1609 Henri IV sent him to
find and prosecute witches in the district of Labourd, in the extreme south-west of France. Travelling
with another judge, de l'Ancre found the region completely “infected” with witches, and by the end of
their inquisition, about 500 people had been burned at the stake for it.

The context of the period is described by Joseph McCabe, in his 1948 book "A History of Satanism".
It should be remembered that at this time witchcraft was seen as a vast and unified movement of
Devil-worship, an anti-religion.

"[The prominent jurist] Boguet condemned the use of torture, and L'Ancre and his colleague, another
eminent judge and royal counsellor, used it only in two or three out of many hundreds of cases. At first
they encountered a baffling silence. The priests, who wore swords and picturesque costumes and drank
and danced with the villagers and townsfolk, were—it transpired—in the movement and instructed
folk to say nothing. Large numbers of the women took to the sea in their husbands' boats or went on
pilgrimage to Spain; where the cult was even stronger. At last, by torture or more amiable means, the
judges won the confidence of a 17-year-old and fiery beggar girl—she danced the witch-dances for
them—and they broke the conspiracy of silence. Here we have a competent lay judge reporting,
without using torture, just the same chief phenomena as the Inquisitors. Some of the highest nobles
and most of the priests attended the Sabbaths, and the priests said Black Masses. At one place there
was a gathering of 12,000 witches. Educated women in their later 20's told how Satanism was the best
religion, and they would rather go to the Sabbath, the "real Paradise," than to the Mass. It was a
foretaste of their joy in the next life. This referred to the usual orgy of promiscuity. The Sabbaths, to
which they took about 2,000 children to be initiated, were held nearly every night and sometimes
during the day. As the trials proceeded the large fleets of fishing boats came in from the Atlantic, and
the anger of the men at the prosecution seems to have forced the judges to close it prematurely. But,
says L'Ancre, "an infinite number (really about 500, including several priests) were burned at
Bordeaux and in Brittany"—which suggests that the cult spread along the coast. In fact, there were
almost simultaneous persecutions on a large scale all over France. At Macon the jails were full, and
there were trials at Orleans and other places."
Additionally, "Whole communities of nuns were said to have been surrendered to the Devil. From
Marseilles in 1611, the year after L'Ancre's inquiry, it was announced that the Ursuline nuns in one of
the most respectable convents were dealing with the devil, and a number of them were "possessed.""

Religious hatred was also in the air. By this time, the Edict of Nantes in 1598 had only recently
stopped the bloodshed and destruction of the Huguenot wars, which had ravaged relations between
Protestants and Catholics since 1562. Tensions were still rife, and both sides considered the other in
league with the Devil.

It is this paranoid context that the trial of Jean Jordain took place.

Pierre de l'Ancre devotes 20 pages to the story in his book - here are the essential details.

Jordain was born around 1589 in the small village of Moras near Agen. In March of 1614, at the age of
25, he was working as chamberlain to the lord of Castanet, Monsieur de Barastre. Jordain fell in love
with the children's nanny, and proposed marriage to her, swearing, according to de l'Ancre, that the
"Devil could take him if he didn't fulfill his promise to marry her". De l'Ancre takes this a darkly
prophetic. The girl accepted and they consummated their love. But Jordain's affections seem to have
changed, when the girl believed she had become pregnant. She entreated him to marry her
immediately, but he continually urged her to have patience.

She soon realize that Jordain had no intention of marrying her, and in tears and rage appealed to
Monsieur de Barastre to intervene. Sensing that he would be severly punished, Jordain fled to his
family, and then, still feeling in danger, he went to Blaye, where he had earlier served the prior of the
Church of the Holy Saviour, a certain Pierre de l'Espine.

His conscience continued to torment him, however, and he took long walks alone to clear his mind.
About three weeks after his arrival in Blaye, during one of his pensive walks, he was suddenly
afflicted with a massive head-ache, and saw a thick black fog in front of him.

Out of this fog walked "a man who appeared all hunched over, dressed in a robe of black silk, of
medium height and sturdy, having a long beard and black hair, which were like straps blowing across
his shoulders and face. He seemed blind in the right eye, without a cloak, a sword at his side, with bare
feet." It was the Devil, Satan himself.

On this first meeting, which lasted about an hour, the Devil cajoled Jean with promises and finally
presented a pact for him to sign, which Jean, being illiterate, could not read. The Devil said he could
help him learn to read and write, but it would be enough for him to copy the pact letter by letter. Jean
wouldn't do it, and finally, he began to go away, and finally, with a terrible smell - Jean said "Jesus
Maria, you stink something awful!" - the Devil departed, promising to come back next Saturday at the
same time.

He had several more meetings with the Devil, and it is interesting to see the rewards Jordain was
supposed to obtain from his relationship with the Devil, as well as what he was expected to do for him.
According to Jean's testimony, at least three times the Devil promised him money, and success in
games. This gives a context for the later pact itself, written on playing cards.

For his part, Jordain agreed to steal some consecrated host from the Ciborium, which he was to break
in pieces, wrap in a white napkin, and place in a pocket on his left side; he was then to take it to a
place near Agen, where he would meet a man named Orpheure Huguenot, who would buy it from him;
by doing this, the Devil promised, he would be fortunate in games and love. But he was caught on his
way upriver to Agen, since one of the monks of the Church suspected him, and brought back to Blaye.

During questioning, not under torture, he gave a very long confession, and also told the judges where
the pact that he had finally made was. Only the two of hearts was ever found, torn in two and buried in
a field with sprouting grains.

On the card was written in blood, "I promise you to do everything I tell you, Jean Jordain, Jean
Jordain, all for you." Despite the fact that the Four of Hearts was never found, both cards intrigued
Pierre de l'Ancre enough for him to suggest that the Devil chose them for their symbolic value, and he
speculated what that might be.

It is interesting that de l'Ancre interpreted the two of hearts in a way most of us would agree with. He
suggests that the Devil "wanted the promise to be made on cards with two hearts shown, making a
baneful alliance and joining together of his (heart) with that of the unfortunate (Jean Jordain)."

As for the Four of Hearts, de l'Ancre says that despite the fact that its contents are unknown, "it is well
assured that it had these words, renouncing his Baptism, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Mary
Magdalene, and his Godfather and Godmother." The four hearts thus symbolized, in de l'Ancre's
interpretation, Jordain's Christian identity, and his pact on the card symbolized his renunciation of that
identity.1

But two hearts can suggest another interpretation, that of indecision. De l'Ancre himself offers this
interpretation of the card in his general introduction to the book, when he alludes to the story and
suggests that the card was chosen by the Devil to remind Jordain that he could not serve two masters. 2

The Two of Hearts was torn, shredded and burned, and the pact declared null and void. The gravity of
Jean Jordain's crimes to the sensibilities of his time and place is shown by his sentence: Jordain was to
renounce and abjure his pact publicly, in the presence of the Curé of the parish and his Vicar, and
before the church of the Holy Savior, he was to make honorable amend by begging pardon of God, the
King and Justice; he had his fist (poing) cut off, was hanged and strangled, then burned; additionally,
he had to pay 120 pounds (livres) in fines, of which 30 went to the King, 30 to the church of the Holy
Savior, 30 to the convent of the Minimes, and 30 to the Hospital.

Note that de l'Ancre does not consider playing cards an evil in themselves, following the normal
Catholic position, unlike their reputation among some Protestants, such as Calvinists who completely
banned them, or philosophers like Pierre de la Primaudaye, who thought that the devil had invented
them.

A further interesting point for historians of magic is that, given the legendary desperation of gamblers,
this is surely the only known pact with the Devil ever written on playing cards. Surviving pacts, such
as Urbain Grandier's (1590-1634), and instructions for making them, as found in some 16th and 17th
century grimoires or magical textbooks such as "The Red Dragon", are made on clean parchment or
papyrus. I know of no pact or instruction for making it that allows for anything else - although the
detail of signing in blood for Jean's signature are in perfect accord with tradition.

II. Corona and Isabella Bellochio

In roughly the same period, from 1589, the city of Venice gives two instances in which playing cards,
in particular tarot cards, were used in magical rituals.

They come from the investigations of Ruth Martin, published in her 1989 book, "Witchcraft and the
Inquisition in Venice, 1550-1650".3 Martin's discovery was brought to the notice of playing card
historians in 2000 by prolific internet tarot enthusiast Jess Karlin.

1
De l’Ancre, p. 671.
2
De l’Ancre, p. 38.
3
Oxford, Blackwell, 1989.
Ruth Martin demonstrates that the Inquisition's interest was in heresy, not magic. The latter was
mortally sinful and criminal, but not heretical. The heresy, when it is noted, consists in worshipping
the Devil, or profaning the sacraments. Magical rituals are only incidentally described.

The first account in which tarot cards are mentioned in connection with a love magical ritual comes
from January of 1589. Isabella Bellochio was found guilty of being "formally apostate from God,
having with works shown herself to believe that it was permissible to offer reverence to the devil,
burning him lamps for several months continuously, and praying to him that he should make (her)
lover come, and having a pact, if not explicit, at least tacit with that same devil". 4 What that worship
consisted of was given in a deposition by Bellochio's housemaid Marina, who testified that Bellochio
"had worshipped an image of the devil by kneeling before it, with her hair loose, while maintaining a
lantern alight before it day and night. '(She had)... a light (cesendello) which burned continuously in
the kitchen in front of a devil and the tarots...'". 5

It is startling and incongruous to see "the tarots" mentioned in this context, and we wonder what
exactly it might mean. Did she worship the image of the Devil from a tarot pack (which might or
might not have resembled this 16th century tarot card, the only surviving one of cardmaker Agnolo
Hebreo),

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/devil.jpg

or was the image a homemade statue, and the tarot pack simply an accoutrement with an unstated
purpose? We don't know, and I have been unsuccessful in tracking Martin down to ask her for more
details.

In any case, whatever the purpose of the tarots in this instance, what interested the inquisitors was
Bellochio's use of the cesendello lamp, which was the lamp normally kept burning in front of the
reserved host, the very body of Christ. This worship, and the tacit pact it implied in the theology of the
witch hunters, made her a heretic.

The second mention of tarot cards was recorded in a trial from the same year, in October 1589. In this
case, a witch named Angela had apparently "told her client Corona that '... you need to adore the devil
if you want to get help', and had suggested getting hold of a tarot card." (Martin, 162). In light of the
greater detail preserved in the first case above, it is hard not to think that this card would have been the
Devil.

Unless the Inquisition had recorded these incidental mentions of tarot cards, we would have no idea
that such things were done with them in the context of folk magic rituals. Martin makes the point that
for Christians of the time, the Devil was seen as a recourse for less-than-noble magical aims, while
prayer to God was reserved for higher aims. Given the harsh penalties for being discovered invoking
the Devil for magical purposes, it is not surprising we don't have more testimonies of it.

III. Leland

These Inquisition accounts from the 16th century have a curious echo in the only other folk magical
use of tarot cards that I have found, that comes from much later, the nineteenth century, in a magical
spell recorded by Charles Godfrey Leland in "Roman Etruscan Remains in Popular Tradition". 6 He
writes "Jano is a spirit with two heads, one of a Christian, and one of an animal, and yet he hath a good
heart, especially that of the animal, and whoever desires a favour from them should invoke (deve
pregarle) both, and to do this he must take two cards of a tarocco pack, generally the Wheel of Fortune

4
Martin, 163-164.
5
Martin, 163.
6
New York, Scribner, 1892. Taken from the “Sacred Texts” website - http://www.sacred-
texts.com/pag/err/err10.htm
and the 'diavolo indiavolato', and put them on the iron (frame) of the bed, and say - 'Thou Devil who
art chief of all the fiends! I will crush thy head until the the spirit of Jano Thou callest for me!'. 7

"Diavolo indiavolato" means "bedeviled devil"; I'm not sure what that indicates, but I imagine it could
mean that the Devil card was covered by the Fortune card, or perhaps it was turned upsidedown. Or
perhaps, Leland has garbled his informant's words, and the spell itself is the bedevilment of the Devil.

This practice illustrates the attitude of a witch to the Devil, and might reflect what was being done in
secret three centuries earlier. Although Leland's account was written long after tarot cards had become
the subject of esoteric speculation (Leland's work must be used with caution in any case, at least for
Aradia), this magical use seems to me to represent genuine folk-magic untainted by occult doctrines
invented in the 18th century or later. It has a folkloric ring of truth to it.

IV. Pierre Grégoire

Even if we did not have actual descriptions of the use of cards in folk magic in the 16th century, a
juridicial text published in 1594 by Pierre Grégoire alludes to it. 8

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/gregoiresortilege2.jpg

In a gloss on article XII of the first council of Rome in 722, which reads "If anyone has observed or
consulted diviners, soothsayers, or enchanters, or used phylacteries, let him be anathema", Grégoire
explains "by 'observing' they mean characters, cards, or carrying other things for amulets, whether for
averting evil, or when used any other way superstitiously". Since characters were generally written on
paper, Grégoire's use of the term "chartas" plausibly refers to playing cards here. This identification is
more secure because such a use is demonstrated for the 16th century.

But besides these scattered remnants, preserved from the silence of history concerning folk magical
practices, how can begin to build a coherent picture of why playing cards were sometimes used in such
a way?

V. Woodcuts

Light can be cast on the use of images such as the Devil of the tarot in worship and magical rituals by
recent studies on the use of early printed images, which show that sometimes they were regarded as
what anthropologists generally call "fetishes" - charms, amulets, magical items of that sort, generally
small items considered, by virtue of the innate or acquired power within them, or the figure depicted
upon them, to possess magical power.

For instance, Bennett Gilbert, curator of the exhibition "The Art of the Woodcut in the Italian
Renaissance Book"9 in Los Angeles in 1995, wrote "A part of the belief [in the power of sacred
images] was fetishism. Much of Italian popular devotion was derived from pagan customs. It
transferred this folklore to monotheism. Church reforms, such as that under Pope Gregory, and urban
Christian culture did not erase the older beliefs but made the interpenetration of doctrinal and popular
religion more and more complex and difficult, a dialectic of unity and conflict. The tremblors of this
faultline deeply affected imagery as popular devotion grew in force. A fetish in pagan belief is an
object having a direct and decisive influence on life. It has power as an emanation of the supernatural,
7
Leland, 130.
8
Pierre Grégoire was born in Toulouse some time before 1540, and died in Pont-à-Mousson on February 20,
1597. This is according to the most recent biography I have of him, Henri GILLES, “La carrière méridionale de
Pierre Grégoire de Toulouse”, in H. Gilles, ed. Université de Toulouse & enseignement du droit XIIIème au
XVIème siècles (Toulouse, SEDUSS, 1992, pp. 229-248). The first edition of his Juris Canonici was published in
1594. My printing is by the same publisher in 1612; the title page gives no reason to believe that any content has
been changed.
9
http://www.gilbooks.com/exhibit.htm (link no longer active)
often transferred by impression upon or into it. Fetishes were made and employed throughout Italy in
those days and indeed today. Thus a Christian benediction could be thought of as a fetish - i.e. as
creating sacred presence in an ordinary object. In the case of a woodcut on paper fetish of St. Francis
of Assisi giving a benediction, his thought is impressed in the picture of him blessing, by which the
paper acquires a virtue from the image upon it."

Thinking this way, it is easy to see why the Devil card might be thought of as a fetish object, or one to
be adored like a Saint's image, except for base purposes rather than holy ones.

Gilbert continues: "When we ask why woodcuts were first printed in books, we can find one answer
by asking why woodcuts were put into other objects. Why were single-leaf woodcuts 'pasted, tacked,
and sewn to all sorts of objects and surfaces?' (quoting Richard Fields, "Fifteenth Century Woodcuts
and Other Relief Prints" (NY, 1975)). After all, they were ultimately pasted into books, as in the books
of the lawyer Jacopo Rubieri that yielded the largest trove (now in the Bibliotheca Classense of
Ravenna). One group of fragments, now at the Museum Dahlem in Berlin, was found on the walls and
doors of a house in Bassano as it was being demolished; others are found on the covers or sides of
chests or even sewn into garments. Even the Paduan humanistic lawyer Marco Benavides tacked them
onto the walls of his studietto in 1532. What were the uses of these woodcuts?

"There are two closely related uses. First, there are the uses suggested by the 'cult of images', with its
strong spiritual and fetishistic features, that formed in this period: 'they were often viewed as quasi-
magical objects with protective powers', and 'they added a note of divine presence to even the most
humble dwelling.' Second, these images may be based on the cycles of frescoes that taught the
unlettered the truths of religion and stimulated their devotional sentiment. Since the woodcuts were
more widely distributed than paintings, they developed a new didactic or 'speaking' function in the
changing devotional environment. Thus, these woodcuts were not fine but applied art. They taught,
reminded, inspired, and protected."

VI. Sistine Chapel, Castello Sforzesco and Kunsthistorisches Museum card

One of the most interesting things Gilbert and his quoted sources relate is the variety of places that
these "fetish" prints were found.

Reading this immediately brought to my mind Giuliano Crippa's 2005 article in The Playing Card, 10
concerning the 1980s discovery of four playing cards in the Sistine Chapel in the Azor-Sadoch (Hazor-
Zadok) lunette.

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/azorsadoch.jpg

You can see they are a four of Clubs, a Jack of Clubs and (in the middle) apparently a Jack of
Diamonds. The cards were together, behind part of the fresco. Crippa speculates that a mason who
didn't want to get caught playing cards quickly plastered them into his work. My hunch is that they
had a "magical" function, used in the way described by Gilbert above, to bring good luck or
remembrance to the masons of the restoration (or some other purpose, but still purposeful).

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/Capella16.jpg

Along with this, I began to wonder if the cards found in the early part of this century, in a well in the
Castello Sforzesco, might have also been put there deliberately. My hunch has been that it might have
been like a wishing-well, and the cards perhaps symbolizing wishes of various kinds. Not being a
statistician, I can’t say whether the sample of 16 French-suited cards, from five or six distinct packs,

10
“Carte da giuoco del '700 nella Cappella Sistina”, The Playing Card, vol. 34 no. 1 (Jul-Sept 2005) pp. 58-59)
found there is large enough to derive any persuasive conclusions, but I found a couple of notable
anomalies.11

First, since the suit of Hearts has an obvious symbolic connection with love, and a good deal of
wishing is done for affairs of the heart, it might be significant that nine of the 16 cards, or over 56 per
cent, are in fact Hearts. Intuitively, this distribution of suits seems a little statistically anomalous to me,
if the cards in fact found their way there randomly.

Secondly, seven of the 16 are court cards. This number is only somewhat improbable I suppose, but
considering that three are Kings of Diamonds, two are Queens of Spades, and two are Kings of Hearts,
seems to reduce the probability of accident considerably. There are only three kinds of court cards, yet
they account for nearly half of the total kinds of cards found.

Whether or not these suggestions seem fanciful, there might be some support found in another, less
publicized discovery, concerning the “Jüngling vom Magdalensberg” (Youth of Magdalensberg), a
bronze sculpture that had once been mistakenly thought to be from ancient Rome. During the course
of intensive studies of the sculpture in the 1980s it was found to be a copy dating from the 16th
century; additionally, a playing card, the Jack of Spades, was found inside. According to the authority
on the subject, Dr. Kurt Gschwantler12, on the Jack of Spades was the maker’s name, Pierre Montalan
(spelled Montalen on the card) of Lyon, whom we know to have been active in the second half of the
17th century.

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/Juengl.jpg

"Jüngling vom Magdalensberg" - "Young Man (or Youth) of Magdalensberg", 16th century.

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/Park_21a.gif

In 1534, when Peter Apian published "Inscriptiones sacrosanctae vetustatis", he included a depiction
of this sculpture (clearly identified by the inscription on its right thigh). This sculpture is the original,
since the copy must have been made after 1551. It is clear that Apian's sculpture had an axe and a
shield, which makes it highly probable that he was a depiction of the Gaulish god known in Roman
sources as "Mars-Latrobius", worshipped in the area. Whether the local people could have known this
or not, it seems to me plausible that whoever put the card inside the statue – whether an artist who
repaired the copy of the original sculpture, or someone who took advantage of an opening - inserted
the Jack of Spades there quite deliberately. The Jack of Spades in this particular pack is holding a
halberd, while other Jacks of the period carry axes, but of course the warlike symbolism is identical.

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/apianus414.jpg

While speculative, I think that the possibility that the Sistine Chapel cards, and the Sforza Well cards,
had some deliberate significance cannot be simply dismissed. Especially as we know now much better,
that printed images are known to have been used in such contexts.

VII. Chinese cross-cultural perspective

Playing cards have been used in religo-magical contexts by people of other cultures as well. According

11
This discussion of the cards found the Sforza Castle is based on Michael Dummett’s article “Cards at the
Castello Sforzesco”, The Playing Card, vol. IX, no. 4 (May 1981) pp. 133-136 (summary of Dummett’s first
hand study of the cards, with tabulations); for the French cards, see also M. Dummett, “Playing-Cards Found at
the Castello Sforzesco in 1908”, The Playing Card, vol. IX, no. 3 (Feb. 1981), pp. 95-99.
12
Private communication, 7 July, 2008, referring to his publication of 1988, which I have not seen (see
“References” at the end of this article).
to Stuart Culin, writing in "The Game of Ma-Jong" in 192413, "the Chinese in America" regard the Red
Flower, White Flower, and Old Thousand cards from what we call the "money" pack as a "powerful
charm and as such place them upon coffins when they transport the dead from place to place." 14

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/chinese.jpg

I am sure that with study, more such occasional examples of the talismanic use of playing cards can be
found.

VIII. Divination

The second category of discoveries is documentary references to divination with cards.

The earliest text I have found alluding to divination with cards occurs in a text written by
Gianfrancesco Pico della Mirandola, the nephew of the better known Giovanni. "De rerum
praenotione" (On the Foreknowledge of Things) was first published in 1507, whereas the copy I have
was printed in a collected works compendium of both authors in 1601.

The book supports the ability of divinely appointed prophets to know the future, while attacking all
other forms of divination, including astrology, geomancy, palmistry and all kinds of sortilege. In the
section on sorts or lots,
he explains: "There are many kinds of lots, as in casting bones, in throwing dice, in the figures
depicted in a pack of cards; and in the expectation of whatever first should arrive, in picking the longer
husk, or in casting the eyes on a page."

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/Pico2big.jpg

The methods Gianfrancesco Pico describes appear to be astragals, dice, playing cards, drawing lots,
and bibliomancy. What strikes me about the phrase "figuris chartaceo ludo pictis" - in the figures
depicted in 'chartaceo ludo' - is the emphasis on the figures. This suggests to me that Pico is not
referring to Losbucher or Lot-book divination, in which the figures on the cards were irrelevant, but a
more immediate kind of cartomancy dependent on interpreting the figures depicted on the cards.

I discovered a more explicit allusion to divination with cards in a Confessor's Manual written by the
Spanish jurist and priest Martin de Azpilcueta (1493-1586), better known as Doctor Navarro, with the
edition I consulted having been published in 1620. In chapter XI, note 30 15, he writes:

http://www.rosscaldwell.com/images/talk/martin_azpilcueta.jpg

"He commits a mortal sin who asks, or even purposes to ask, charlatans or diviners about a stolen
object or any other secret: or else tries to know the same thing by lots, rolling dice, cards, books, a
sieve or an astrolabe...". (The first edition was published in 1575, which I have not been able to check.
A Confessor's Manual is a book that details sins and gives techniques, not only penances but methods
for changing habits of life, for how to lead the sinner away from it.)

The Pierre Grégoire text noted beforehand, dating to at least 1612 (the copy available to me was a
1612 edition; the first edition was 1594), may also be taken as referring to divination with cards.

Recently Thierry Depaulis has found references to 18th century cartomancy in a newly published
book, previously unknown to playing card historians. He has given me the pleasure of sharing them
with you.

13
http://www.ahs.uwaterloo.ca/~museum/Archives/Culin/Majong1924/index.html
14
Culin, 158.
15
Page 191 in my edition.
Murielle Brulé published "Le jeu à Metz sous l'Ancien Régime" just last year, in 2005. She notes two
instances of punishments for cartomancy, one undated, and one in 1772.

Brulé responded to Thierry's letter of enquiry with a detailed response to her allusive reference to the
first account - she had not noted the date. She writes "A police record of March 17, 1759, condemns
two women to eight days in prison because they had 'taken advantage of the simple-mindedness of
several people and took money from them under the pretext of finding for them things stolen or lost,
by the means of some packs of cards.'"

With this, 1759 becomes the earliest known account of cartomancy. 16

16
Since the talk was given, the date can now be pushed back at least to 1730. In the play Jack the Gyant-killer: A
comic-tragical Farce of One Act. As it is acted in the New-Theatre in the Hay-Market in London, the anonymous
author clearly describes on pages 14 and 15 a cartomancy method with the regular pack that includes a positional
layout and inherent card-meanings. This text was discovered by Stephen J. Mangan in the continuously
expanding body of searchable (if with care) facsimile texts in GoogleBooks –
http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=SwsOAAAAQAAJ&pg=PA14&dq=r=1&ie=ISO-8859-1#PPA14,M1
Because of its intrinsic interest, I include the text here:

“Folly. First we’ll examine the decrees of Fate,

In mystic Coffe-Cups and Tea reveal’d;
Then new-invented Arts of Snuff and Cards,
Shall all be try’d, the grand Event to shew,
If we, my Friends, shall conquer, or the Foe. . . .

Folly. You shall be satisfy’d anon- ….. — but we must lay the Cards first — Time presses, and the Princes must
depart. Give us the Cards, that in our several Turns we all may Cut : I am the Queen of Hearts.

First Woman gives the Cards to Folly, then to each of the Gyants, who cut, and deliver to her again, and he lays
on the Table in Rows.

First woman. You. Lord Gormillan, are the King of Clubs; Lord Thunderdale shall be the angry Majesty of
Spades; The Diamond Crown Lord Blunderboar shall wear; and King of Hearts Lord Galligantus shall assume.

The Knave of Spades, Madam, seems to threaten Danger, but he lies oblique, and the Ten of Hearts between
them shews he wants Power to hurt you — ‘the Eight of Clubs and Ace over your Head denote A chearful Bowl
and Mirth will crown Night — all will be well — these Princes are surrounded with Diamonds; the Eight lies at
the Feet of Lord Gormillan; the Deuce, the Four and Five are in a direct Line with Valiant Thunderdale; the Tray
and Nine are at the Elbow of great Blunderboar, and the Six and Seven are just over the Head of noble
Galligantus. Some Spades of ill aspect mingled with them, but the Hearts and Clubs take off their malevolent
Quality.

Folly. Go then, my Friends, secure of Fame and Conquest, The Oracles pronounce it.

Ha! what Noise? {A great Noise ..}

Enter a Messenger out of Breath

Mess. Ah, Madam ! you are lost! — all-conquering Jack with his Retinue has broke into your Palace — behold
‘em here—

Enter Jack and his Party, they throw down the Table, Cups, Cards, &c.

Jack. Fall on, my Friends”

Thierry tracked down the source of Brulé's second reference, in 1772. In communicating this to me, he
noted "... the facts took place in Marseille, and not in Metz! (I think Brulé was aware of that but she
couldn't resist reporting the story!). The story is interesting though."

The story is interesting, not only for its reference to cartomancy but also for the editorial attitude it
expresses, so I will simply quote the record from the "Précis des dernières nouvelles" (Synopsis of the
latest news) from the Affiches des Trois-Evêchés for August 1st, 1772 (in translation of course):
"Despite the progress of philosophy, its beams do not yet illuminate every class of citizen; there are
still those who hold to the ancient errors, and who are the dupes of those who have the blameworthy
skill of profiting from their simplicity, whom they abuse with their pretended secrets. Although for a
long time sorcerers and diviners have lost all credibility in Europe, one still finds in our countryside
and even in our towns these so-called diviners who play on the credulity of the people for profit.

The town of Marseille gives and example of it; a dressmaker of this town had long preferred the
profession of so-called witchcraft to that of sewing; but unfortunately for her, one of her dupes, having
been undeceived, went to denounce her to the tribunal, and the diviner, not having divined the fate that
awaited her, was led to prison without having time to even recognize herself; she was judged on the
4th of last month (July 4, 1772), by the Parlement de Provence, and her arrest was entered into the
Affiche of Aix on the 19th of the same month; we believe we are obliged to recount it to serve as an
example to others like her, and as a lesson to their dupes.

"'Arrest of the 4th of last month, which condemns her named Anne Cauvin, widow of Joseph Magalon,
manager of fishermen, native of Roumoule, to be exposed in shackles during three consecutive market
days, having her head covered with a bonnet surrounded by tarots, and a sieve around her neck, and to
stay in this condition for one hour each time, after which the tarots will be torn up and the sieve
broken by the executioner of the sentence; accused, at the request of the Substitute in the seat of
Marseille, of having put into use practices superstitious in both deed and word, in order to procure for
herself illegitimate profits abusing the false confidence of the people.'"

These additional references to card divination throughout the centuries do not directly challenge the
consensus on the development of cartomancy expressed by Michael Dummet in 1980 (Chapter 5 of
Game of Tarot) or in "A Wicked Pack of Cards", but they do add nuance and detail to the overall
picture.

Ross G.R. Caldwell

References:

De Azpilcueta, Martin, Enchiridion sive Manuale Confessariorum et Poenitentium (François Huby,

Paris, 1620).

Brulé, Murielle, Le jeu à Metz sous l'Ancien Régime (Editions Serpenoise, 2005).

Culin, Stuart, The Game of Ma-Jong (Brooklyn Museum Quarterly 11, October 1924, pp. 153-168).
See the Stuart Culin webpages at the University of Waterloo,
http://www.gamesmuseum.uwaterloo.ca/Archives/Culin/index.html (last accessed 27 July, 2008).

De L’Ancre, Pierre (also spelled Delancre in some sources), L'incredulite et mescréance du sortilège,
plainement convaincue (Paris, Nicolas Buon, 1622), pp. 655-674; see also p. 38.

Grégoire, Pierre, Juris canonici seu pontifici partitiones in quinque libros digestae (Lyon, Pillehotte,
1612).
Gschwantler, Kurt, “Der Jüngling vom Magdalensberg - Ein Forschungsprojekt der Antikensammlung
des Kunsthistorischen Museums Wien”, in: Griechische und römische Statuetten und Großbronzen.
Akten der 9. Tagung über antike Bronzen in Wien 1986 (1988) 21f. Abb.14.

Leland, Charles Godfrey, Roman Etruscan Remains in Popular Tradition, (New York, Scribner, 1892).

Martin, Ruth, Witchcraft and the Inquisition in Venice, 1550-1650 (Oxford, Blackwell, 1989).

Pico della Mirandola, Gianfrancesco, De rerum praenotione (Basileae, Henricpetri, 1601).