Hans Jørgen Hinrup
Denmark 1487-1673 and 1673-1798
The earliest card-playing and the birth of Danish cardmaking
Thierry Depaulis
“Toulouse/Gerona pattern”
John Sings
Early 19th Century German Whist Boxes & their Counters
Ken Lodge
80 years of collecting playing cards: a personal view
This paper will open with the earliest mentions of playing cards in Denmark, textual and visual.
Next it will summarize what is known about the earliest Cardmakers in Denmark.
The first mention of playing cards in Denmark is found in the accounts kept by Queen Christine of
Saxony (Sachsen), wife of King Hans (1481-1513). In 1487 he played cards, and he lost.
Next we have two visual samples. Both are frescoes. Both are from the 16th century.
That of Vinderslev Church and that of Hesselager Manor House.
These three cases do not tell what they played, and which cards they used, but from the middle of
the 17 century we know which cards were the most used.
Three poems, by Lauremberg (1652), Peder Syv (1663) and Worm (1674) lays open the heavy use
of playing cards. That of the Dutch decks from Pieter Mefferdt
And two paintings, – one from between 1699 and 1730 with Danish nobility,. A somewhat sombre
picture showing an outing, with dices and playing cards on the table.
And a painting by Ruboldt Wilcken, dated 1693, with the title “The World’s Vanity”. With lustful
men courting in words and with hands-on.
With an edict of 1660 a tax stamp was initiated which established the important divide between the
legally imported and distributed decks, and the illegal influx of foreign decks.
We have now established a knowledge and use of playing cards lasting for almost 200 years.
It was time for our own card production.
This is a list of early Cardmakers, whom we know, and to whom we have comments and can give a
bit more information.
Fridrich Jacobsen, 1673-
lans Heuser 1680-1693
Lorents Schlöri 1694
Joachim Wielandt, 1725-1728
Jacques/Jacob Amette og Jean-Baptiste Landé, 1729-?
Jean Friderich Meyer, 1752-1783
Nicolaj Mehl -1778
Peter Henrich Barckley 1753-1762
Dreyer
Iver Valentin Dresler, 1778-1796
Cristoffer Ernst Süsz 1783-1790
C. E. Süsz & Kuntze 1790-1798
The first five have left us no cards. We know of their privileges and their locations, but some may
not even have printed a single deck! They stopped, – because of sloppiness or national disaster. Of
only one do we have an image.
From 1752 and onwards we have knowledge. In the case of Meyer and of Mehl even an overwhelming amount of knowledge. But only 2-3 decks
The Frederiks Hospital was opened, with funds for upholding the hospital based on card taxes. Its
somewhat bureaucratic framework now is abundant with archivals – for us.
Here we can follow the production year by year. An intimate glimpse.
The later Cardmakers again fade into the less known. One of them being a Jeweller, another having
served as a Comprador on several Danish merchant ships to China.
Be that so, they did carry the making on into the solid production by Steinmann 1792-1824 and
later to the virtual Card-making “dynasty” of Holmblad starting in 1820..
The so-called “Toulouse/Gerona” pattern is examplified by a fine, complete pack madeby Louis Millieu, somewhere in France, that used to belong to Sylvia Mann, then to David Temperley, and is now on the art market. Its general style is very “French”, but does notreally resemble any of the other Spanish patterns. Typically, the jack of swords holds alarge sword downwards; the king, knight and jack of batons similarly hold their suit-signdownwards; the ace of coins displays the arms of Spain, while the two of coins shows the arms of the Kingdom of Aragon.
This pattern has not survived and there are questions about its distribution area. Some cards in the Museo Fournier de Naipes de Alava were found near Girona (Catalonia) and a sheet published in 1971 was attributed to Toulouse by the exhibition catalogue (Toulouse 1971). Sylvia Mann believed she could name this pattern “Toulouse/Gerona”.
But the attribution to Toulouse has no solid evidence.
However, we must not forget that the Cary collection has 12 cards of this pattern bearing the name of… Jehan Volay, which might have been made by the “real” Jehan Volay in Thiers. More puzzling is the discovery, at Qasr Ibrim, in southern Egypt, by British archaeologists, in the 1980s, in the remains of an Ottoman garrison, of a hardly identifiable but clearly recognisable fragment of a knight of batons (today in the BritishMuseum).
This was more or less what we had at hand before 2024 in order to understand what these cards were made for, and which (Spanish) region used them. The recent discovery of a substantial number of cards of this very pattern in the Archivo de la Corona de Aragón at Barcelona, though fragmentary, increases our corpus considerably, and allows us now to better understand the distribution of this type.
The oldest of these cards, the upper part of a knight of cups, was attached to a register dated 1516 and may even be earlier. Other fragments are later, from the 1560s to 1580s; they include a jack of
swords attached to a register of 1587, that bears the name of Henri Paumier, a cardmaker of Thiers, who was visited by Montaigne in 1581. A four of coins where the top of the initials H P is legible must also be attributed to this cardmaker. They are so far the only known examples of his production. All these fragments were found in registers that come from northern Catalonia, namely the counties of Roussillon and Cerdagne (Spanish Condados de Rosellón y Cerdaña), today included in the French department of Pyrénées-Orientales (capital city Perpignan). Gerona is not far away…
Everything shows that this type of cards was circulating in Catalonia. The only confirmed places of production are Thiers and Lyon. We must probably forget Toulouse… We note the total absence, in the Archivo de la Corona de Aragón collection, formed almost exclusively of 16th century cards, of cards belonging to the “old Catalan/Aragonese” (later “Nacional”) pattern. We therefore may hypothesize that the “Toulouse/Gérone” pattern was an early “Catalan” pattern, attested throughout the 16th century and surviving into the 17th century. We will probably have to change the name given by Sylvia Mann and find another designation.
Growing up, playing whist with my parents, meant the game stayed with me through out my adult life before my interest was replaced with playing bridge.
About thirty years ago I read a later edition of the 1742 work by Edmund Hoyle, ‘A Short Treatise on the Game of Whist, printed for T. Osborne et al, sixth London edition, 1746.’
I then discovered that there were early translations of the 1742 work. Up to that time I could be excused for thinking that whist was predominantly played in England and I didn’t appreciate its worldwide popularity.
I began to develop an interest in the paraphernalia used for scoring whist specifically for the Long version . As far as we can establish these ‘essential aids’ were in demand from the early 1800s.
I found it amazing that the scoring of this card game could attract so much interest that significant manufacturing time was spent producing four ‘coins’, often with boxes, to score the game — when surely everyone had loose change in their pockets that would serve the same purpose!
Of course, stones and coins have been used as devices for accounting for centuries, so it’s possible this methodology of using four coins to count in our decimal system even predates Hoyle’s 1742 work though I can find no evidence of counting using only four objects.
The Inca counting boards used positional values for the pieces placed which gave them the ability to count to quite large numbers which may have been the inspiration for the ‘inventor’.
The first reference to this method of scoring appeared in a Portuguese publication on the subject of whist: Breve Tratado do Jogo do Whist, in 1753.
Whilst it is commonly referred to as Hoyles counting method it had nothing to do with him; in fact hoyle had very little to do with the publication that bears his name to this day.
The medalet and check makers of Birmingham, and some in London, were producing British farthing-sized tokens in cylindrical boxes to meet the demand for this ‘much-needed’ aid – this was c1820.
I knew that other materials were used, lamb’s bone, porcelain, wood etc but it was the metal ones that held my attention.
I then discovered there were French whist boxes and counters — many in mother-of-pearl with hand-painted court designs — there was also a variety of metal ones.
Latterly I came across something so far out of the ordinary, to me, that it became my passion: German whist boxes, principally made in Berlin iron.
Whereas the English boxes were fairly plain— usually featuring an effigy of Hoyle, some with concentric circles — these German boxes were cast with figures I did not immediately recognize: cherubs, Greek and Roman gods, cavaliers, animals and more. Highly decorated as were their contents.
Early references to these counters In Germany was to be found in literature related to medalists.
These books date the counters about 1800: they were regarded on a par with medals. I believe it was more likely 1805–1808.
It is important to note that these books only referred to the contents of boxes, counters which may have ben sold separately with no mention of the boxes.
You will all have seen objects for whist scoring and most probably know how the objects have to be placed during the game but that is not the subject of this talk and has been fully covered in the journals of the IPCS.
[ to be continued ]
No doubt like most collectors of most things that one can collect, I was hooked on the details of design of the court cards of the many different kinds of pack that I came across. In my case this happened first when I was still in my pram. ‘Collecting’ at that age is not the appropriate term, but fascination is.
There were a number of things I was hooked on in my early years besides playing cards: stamps, coins, railways (model and full-size) and language. Cards and language remained crucial parts of my life throughout my academic career and my passion for both has not diminished with age.
Also like many collectors, I collected anything and everything. It is only in this way that one can come to a rational decision to specialize in one or two particular areas. I focused first on the regional patterns of France and their descendants and then on the standard English pattern in particular.
After I retired from full-time work, I’ve had more time to devote to ferreting out information about cards, especially those made in England. It has always somewhat irritated me to read claims of rarity and special value without any indication of the basis on which such claims are made. If we know that in 1866 De La Rue printed 10,660 packs with the Cotton Plant back design, then it is inappropriate to describe such a pack as rare.
I have also found it unacceptable to take a perfectly good pack of cards and break it up into single cards. This is unnecessary vandalism, as there are plenty of incomplete left-overs and tradesmen’s samples to go round. As a cultural object, a pack of cards is just that: a pack, a set of 32, 36, 52, 78 cards ± jokers. Collecting packs because you’re fascinated by the back design is one thing, taking them apart is another.
Throughout my collecting I have been fortunate in meeting some lovely people, who have contributed in all kinds of ways to my knowledge of the history and development of cards. I consider myself to have been especially fortunate in being in at the beginning of the Playing Card Society, as it was originally, and getting to know some of the founders of what has become a serious contributor to knowledge of this esoteric, but exciting field of study.