35-43, Ch. 3: The Family for Whom the Cards Were Made (Moakley)

[start 35]
3
THE FAMILY FOR WHOM THE CARDS WERE MADE

THE SCENES represented in the tarocchi reflect the tenor of the time in history when they attained a peak of popularity. A brief glance into this era seems an appropriate introduction to the Visconti-Sforza family for whom this particular set of cards was made.

Preachers have never liked playing cards, and it can be said that the story the cards tell is very much opposed to the basic tenets of Christianity. However, it is not an unfamiliar story at all. It is the story of our own world, this world of which, we are told, the Devil is the Prince, the same world that existed in the late Middle Ages.

With a little imagination one can see that each of the four ordinary suits in any pack of cards is a company of knights ready for one of the jousts or tourneys which were the favorite sports of medieval Europe. Each knight wears the heraldic device of his own company, but "differenced" by number, according to his rank. At the head of each company is its King-of-arms, its Queen of Love and Beauty, and its chief Knight. In the tarocchi and minchiate (another variety of tarot cards), there is also a Page.

With more imagination one can see that each of these four companies of knights is devoted to one of the cardinal virtues and wears its device: the sword representing Justice, the cup of Temperance, the staff or column of Fortitude, and the coin or mirror of Prudence (1). In northern Europe these suits became known as spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds, respectively.

"Is it so devilish then," you may ask, "for knights to go forth to battle on behalf of Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Prudence? Isn't this the ideal of chivalry on which Christendom depended for its very existence?"

Maurice Samuel, in his book The Gentleman and the Jew, tells how the same question presented itself to him, and how it was answered.
_____________
[note originally on p. 41]
1. Justice was usually represented as a figure with scales and a sword, Temperance as pouring liquid from one vessel into another, Fortitude with a staff or a broken column, and Prudence with a mirror by means of which she can look behind her (coins as a symbol of Prudence are rarer). The virtues are often mentioned in relation 'to the Visconti and Sforza, for one of their titles was "Conte di Virtù.” At the death of Giangaleazzo Visconti the virtues were represented as mourning him as their lord: "O chiara luce, o specchio, o colonna, o sostegno, o franca spada, the la nostra contrada mantenevi sicura in monte e in piano!" [O clear light, o mirror, o column, o supporter, o confident sword, you kept our territory safe in the high places and the flat!] (Arch stor lomb,[Archivio storico Lombardo] anno xviii, p 792). For "mirrors" and "columns" as names for the suits of coins and staves see Chatto (Facts, p 53). His authority is Innocentio Ringhieri, Cento giuochi liberali et d'ingegno (Bologna 1551) p 132.

[start p. 36]
His parents had come from Roumania to England, and he grew up learning Jewish ideals from his parents and his Rabbi. At the same time he was introduced to the chivalric ideals of "cricket" through the English boys' books and magazines he read. "Cricket" summed up all the English ideals of fair play, honesty, courage and loyalty to king and country. He did not then know that this philosophy came indirectly from Castiglione's The Courtier, which adapted the classical Greek ideals to the Renaissance way of life. He thought it was the typical Christian ideal, and assumed that Christian church services must express it in a wonderfully intense way.

How surprised he was when he attended a Christian church service for the first time. "I was utterly confounded," he writes, "by the sermon preached from the pulpit. . . . The sermon, in which the name of Jesus appeared and reappeared with — to me —terrifying frequency, had nothing whatsoever to do, in spirit or in substance, with that gay, magnanimous, adventurous and gamesome world which I had come to hear glorified. It did not proclaim, in new and unimaginably attractive phrases, the cosmic rightness of the life of Greyfriars, The Revenge, The Charge of the Light Brigade, and the cricket team. In a most unbelievable way it rehearsed what I had been learning in cheder! It appeared that among the Christians, too, the meek and the humble were blessed. It appeared that when someone hit you, you did not answer laughingly with a straight left, and you did not invite your friends to stand around in a circle while you carried on with the Marquis of Queensbury rules. Not a bit of it! You turned the other cheek! . . . It appeared that the peacemakers, not the soldiers, not the manly, laughing killers, were the blessed." (2)

Even in the fifteenth century people must have known in their hearts that this was true. Or else why were the delights of the joust and the tourney kept for the festival times, when religion was forgotten or at least temporarily in the background? On the weekdays of the Lenten season, when Christian laymen worked at their religion and practiced special acts of humility and self-denial, some pious attention was given to the fact that hardly any virtue is fostered by going out and knocking a man down. During the rest of the year, however, the knightly combats, and the processions of knights which preceded them, held the same place in the popular mind of that day as baseball and football in ours. We may come a little closer to feeling the attractiveness of the chivalrous sports if we compare them to the bullfight, where the gallant
_____________
[note originally on p. 41]
2. The quotation from Maurice Samuel's The Gentleman and the Jew (New York, Knopf, 1950, p 20ff) is made by permission of the publisher.

[start p. 37]
torero seeks the same kind of glory, through the exhibition of his skill and courage, as did the fifteenth-century knight. (3)

It was from the chivalrous culture personified by the crusading knight as the defender of the Church that the arts of the later Renaissance flourished: the sentimentalism of courtly love with its poetry and song, the ostentatious pageant, the chivalrous romance of knight and fair lady. The writers of chivalrous literature knew well enough that their work was basically un-Christian, Thus we find Chaucer repenting in his Persones Tale [Parson's Tale] that he had written his "endytinges of worldly vanitees," among which he names his Troilus and "the tales of Canterbury, thilke that sounen in-to sinne." St Theresa of Avila, too, lamented the evil effects of her girlhood habit of romance reading, which she caught from her mother. "So completely was I mastered by this passion," she writes, "that I thought I could never be happy without a new book." This craze for romantic tales of chivalry undoubtedly came to Avila by way of Milan and Ferrara, at whose gay courts these books were as popular as the playing-cards which reflected them. Such stories particularly appealed to the womanly mind, and St Theresa's father was probably not the only male who disapproved of them. She reports that they annoyed her father so much that she and her female relatives had to be careful that he never saw them reading such literature. (4)

This is not said in utter condemnation of the chivalrous tradition. In many ways the awakening of a love for poetry, art, and romance quickened Christianity itself to a new life. As much as people loved their romances, their cards, and their tourneys, they realized inwardly that these pleasures were not quite in keeping with the devout life. After a gay and exhausting Carnival, the exuberant Italians really welcomed Lent as a chance to rest from the festive season and to prove to themselves that they were really Christians at heart. They brought their vanities (including their playing-cards) to be burned in the bonfires at the beginning of Lent with an honest spirit of aspiring to sanctity. Though, human nature being what it is, the fasting gradually became wearisome, and they were soon glad to pull a feather from the symbolic figure of Lent at the end of each week — until Holy Saturday, when it was completely plucked.

There is an ironic twist in this love of chivalry. Knightly exploits were the favorite sports of the upper classes, but the task of conducting actual warfare was given to the hired soldier, the condottiere with his paid army, who carried on the grim business of waging wars.
__________________
[notes originally on p. 41-2]
3. Hauser (Social, p 125) explains the high esteem in which war and hunting were held at this time, by showing that war and hunting involve skill and courage, whereas peacetime occupations need only patience, and are therefore despised and relegated to slaves.
4. See Hauser (Social, p 197-310) for chivalry as the ground of Renaissance art. Huizinga (Waning, ch IV—X) gives the same impression. Chaucer's repentance is in the last section [start p. 42] of "The Persones Tale" at the end of The Canterbury Tales. St Teresa's is in The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus . . . Written by Herself (London, T. Baker, 1924) p 7.

[start p. 38]
Francesco Sforza, the fourth Duke of Milan and the original owner of the cards we are examining, had been one of these condottieri like his father before him, Muzio Attendolo. When Muzio Attendolo died, his nickname "Sforza" was made the hereditary surname of the family by Queen Joanna II of Naples (5)

The story is told that Muzio Attendolo was chopping wood near his home town of Cotignola, when a troop of hired soldiers rode past. "Why don't you come with us?" they called to him. He aimed his axe at a nearby tree, and as he threw it replied, "If it stays, I'll go!" The axe stuck in the tree, and Muzio joined the soldiers. So began the career which led him to become a condottiere.

His military exploits won for him the respect of the rulers who employed him. In addition to financial rewards, he received the right to the several heraldic devices which together formed in heraldry what is known as the "achievement" of the Sforza family. The first of these was the quince (in Italian cotigna), given him by the anti-pope John XXIII in recognition of his rank as Count of Cotignola. He continued to use this device even when John withdrew it, somewhat as King Henry VIII of England, under similar circumstances kept the papal title "Defender of the Faith." (6)

At a later date, Rupert III, King of the Romans, gave him the right to bear on his shield a lion rampant, holding the quince in its left paw, while it challenged all comers with its right. The Sforza helmet, a winged dragon with a man's head, formed the crest. In 1409 the Marquis of Este added a diamond ring, in recognition of Muzio's triumph over the tyrant of Parma, Ottobuono Terzo. The Sforza achievement is sometimes shown with the diamond ring repeated many times, either as a whole chain of rings, or as a separate ring at the tip of each rib in the dragon's bat-like wings. Muzio's son, Francesco Sforza, eventually adopted three interlaced diamond rings as his impresa.

Muzio Attendolo maintained his army in a state of iron discipline. Cursing and gambling were forbidden in his camp. The soldier who jailed to keep his gear in perfect order was flogged, and the thief or traitor was put to death. Despite his sternness, the men in Muzio's army were proud to serve under him, and grieved when he died tragically in the year 1424. His favorite page had tumbled into a rapid stream, and Muzio dived in to save him. The current was too strong, and both were swept out to their deaths in the sea before anyone could save them. (7)
__________________
[notes originally on p. 42]
5. The biographical sketch of Sforza is based mostly on Assum (Francesco). For the change of surname from Attendolo to Sforza see p 12.
6. The legend of the axe is from Ady (History p 2). For the heraldic achievement see Litta Famiglie, vol 1, pt 1). For Muzio and the anti-Pope see notes for the trump Il Traditore, XII.
7. The discipline of Muzio's army and the story of his death are from Ady (History p 10).

[start p. 39]
On July 23 1401 a son had been born to Muzio in Florence. The romantic mysticism of the age is typified in this Story of the dream his mother, Lucia, had before his birth. She dreamt that she was in a beautiful house where there was a long and steep flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs was a painting of the Madonna with the Holy Child in her arms. The child had a golden apple in his hand. Suddenly the Madonna came to life, and the Holy Child threw into Lucia's bosom the golden apple which became her son Francesco. (8)

Under his father's training Francesco became a first-rate condottiere. In addition, he had some of the talents of a civil ruler, and by trial and error learned how to exercise those talents. As he learned, his desire to rule increased, and he was understandably eager for the chance to prove his ability. His feeling was rather like that of a man seeing someone try to disentangle a snarl of string while his own fingers itch with the knowledge that they can do it better.

Francesco Sforza finally realized his ambitions when he became the fourth Duke of Milan in 1450. The third Duke, Filippo Maria Visconti, had no male issue. Francesco knew that the man who married Filippo's only child, Bianca Maria, would have some claim to the ducal throne, slight though the claim might be. Helped by his friend Cosimo de' Medici of Florence, Francesco prevailed on the Duke to give him his daughter's hand. In 1430 the Duke promised her to him and gave Sforza the right to use the surname Visconti. From that time on we find Sforza signing himself "Franciscus Sfortia (or Sphortia) Vicecomes." The splendid betrothal ceremony of Bianca and Francesco was celebrated on February 23 1432 in the Castello di Porta Giovia. Nine years later they were married in the Church of St Sigismund in Cremona. He was forty years of age and she seventeen. Despite the great difference in age, they seem to have been a congenial enough couple, if one may judge from their portraits. One knows from history that the daughters of rulers never in their wildest dreams expected to marry for love, and a great lady knew how to be discreet about her love affairs. In this case, Bianca with her warm Milanese heart and Francesco with the sense of humor of a good soldier and ruler in all probability got along together well enough.

Six years after their marriage Duke Filippo died, and the citizens of Milan set up what they called the Golden Ambrosian Republic, and tried to resume the parliamentary government of two centuries earlier. This attempt at self-government was doomed to failure from the start.
_______________
[note originally p. 42]
8. Lucia's dream of the golden apple is from Assum (Francesco p 12). The rest of the historical material in this chapter is also either from Assum or Ady, except Bembo's claim to early partisanship of Sforza, which is from Baroni (Pittura p 107).

[start p. 40]
The centuries had sapped the democratic powers of the Milanese, and, as a further drain on their strength, Milan was at war with Venice. Several of the subject-cities of Milan immediately declared their own independence. We find later evidence of our painter, Bonifacio Bembo, reminding Sforza that he lad done and said much to keep the city of Cremona on Sforza's side during the eventful year of 1447.

At first Francesco Sforza continued to serve Milan as its condottiere. He did not, however, give up his ducal aspirations, and finally the turn of events left him free to fight for his own cause without loss of honor. A detailed account of the force 'and counter-forces at work is out of place here. Suffice it to say that the rulers of Milan, .the twenty-four elected Captains and Defenders of the "Golden Ambrosian" republic were their own worst enemies. Their blind political hysteria led them to bring about a reign of terror within the city walls. People who spoke against their regime were put to death, and those who were seen talking together in groups had to prove they were innocent of any crime against the republic. Sforza took advantage of this folly and the internal dissension by besieging the city until it was reduced to a state of famine. In the meantime he demonstrated his fairness and political ability in the surrounding cities, which he conquered one by one and ruled to the advantage of their citizens. The outcome was inevitable. There was a desperate uprising in Milan. The Captains and Defenders were, overthrown, and the excited' citizens sent an emissary to invite Sforza to be their Duke. As he had foreseen, his marriage was a factor in securing the dukedom. The Milanese were able to save their self-respect by reminding themselves that they freely chose as their ruler the husband of their fellow-citizen Bianca Visconti.

Duke Francesco ruled Milan well for the remaining sixteen years of his life. He continued the Visconti tradition, dating back at least to the time of Petrarch, of encouraging scholars and artists, including the distinguished scholar Francesco Filelfo. Filelfo planned an epic poem on the life of Duke Francesco, to be called the Sforziad, but the project was never finished.

Unfortunately, Francesco had no more success than, his friend Cosimo de' Medici in training his sons to be good rulers. Cosimo's son Lorenzo de' Medici, Galeazzo Maria Sforza and his brother, Lodovico "il Moro," were more interested in the enjoyment of pleasure than in work. However, in their time the brilliance of the court of Milan increased. In fact, Lodovico's patronage of Leonardo da Vinci and

[start p. 41]
Bramante marked the high point of the Italian Renaissance. But the days of the Sforza Dukes were numbered. In 1499 Milan was taken by the French, and Lodovico Sforza spent the few remaining years of his life as their prisoner.

We have come a long way from the imaginary knights which make up the suit cards of the tarocchi, through the factual story of the family for whom the cards were made. But before we go on to the trump cards there is one more question to' consider. Why are there fifty-six suit cards, and why are there twenty-one trumps? The answer is found when we remember that cards, as a game of chance, replaced dice almost completely. In the dice games which use three dice, there are fifty-six possible throws, and with two dice twenty-one. There are other, more fanciful, considerations which make these numbers suitable. Twenty-one is a triangular number with a base of six that is, 6 + 5 + 4 + 3 + 2 + 1= 21. Fifty-six is a pyramidal number' with a base of twenty-one (a pyramid of fifty-six balls may be raised with the former triangle of twenty-one as its base). Add the "wild" Fool to get seventy-eight cards and you have another triangular number with a base of twelve. Take away the Fool and you have the product of seven and eleven, those numbers' symbolical of luck and dear to the dice player. (9)
_______________
[note originally p. 42]
9. It was Professor Maurice G. Kendall who pointed out to me that fifty-six is the number of throws with three dice. See Kendall ("Studies" p 1-14). He mentions the dice game of fifty-six throws which Bishop Wibold recommended to his clergy as a spiritual exercise in the year 970. Burckhardt (Civilization, p 409) mistakenly refers to this as a game of cards. The original source is Mon Germ SS. vii, p 433. The Chinese have special names for the twenty-one throws of two dice, just as we do. See British Museum (Catalogue .. . Lady Schreiber p 185) for a list of these names, which seem to be based on the picture made by the Chinese numerals, e. g. 2-2 which looks like this in Chinese: = =, is called "The bench." The term "triangular number" and "pyramidal number" are used in mathematical works of reference. Robert Graves, in his Nazarene Gospel Restored, refers to a triangular number as the "Philonian fulfilment" of its base; e. .g. twenty-one is the PhiIonian fulfilment of six. For seven and eleven as symbolical of sin see Hopper (Medieval) p 24, 87, and p. 52. (Dante took over eleven as the basis for the dimensions of Hell). In the Morgante of Pulci the giant Margutte boasts of having seventy-seven mortal sins. The trumps plus the Fool (twenty-two cards) faintly suggest the ancient "pi" formula, which was twenty-two divided by seven (The White Goddess, by Robert Graves, New York, Creative Age Press, 1948, p 191). This seemed too far-fetched to mention in the text.

Scan of pp.40-41 (notes): https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YluhGwWfhkk/ ... 018det.jpg

Scan of pp. 42-43 (notes): https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zqagnHaNTQw/ ... 019det.jpg