In the year 1711 Alexander Pope was a rising young poet and man of letters aged just 23 years old. Two years earlier in 1709 he had published a poetic work called ‘An Essay On Criticism’ which had been widely acclaimed in literary circles, and he was already planning to translate the Iliad of Homer from the classical Greek, and to render the entire work in English verse.
It was at this point that Alexander Pope was approached by a friend called John Caryll who recounted to him the story of a rather strange social quarrel that had recently broken out between two other familes who were well known to both of them. Caryll hoped to pique Pope’s curiosity both by suggesting that the story might furnish the material for an entertaining new poem, and also by making an appeal for Pope’s help in defusing a rather delicate and unfortunate situation that had arisen between the two families who were party to this increasingly embittered feud.
The hidden factor that needs to be explained here is that Pope and Caryll, like all the other players in this story were members of well-born families who still adhered to the Roman Catholic faith. They were commonly known as ‘recusants’. To be a socially prominent recusant Roman Catholic was to be a member of a badly persecuted religious minority in England at that time. In the wake of the exile of James II in 1688, draconian laws known as the Test Acts had been enacted. If you were a Roman Catholic, you could not vote, take a seat in parliament, attend public schools or study at the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. You were not allowed to live in London itself, nor within ten miles of the capital either.
Understandably perhaps, members of the recusant Roman Catholic aristocracy of England had developed a certain sense of community in the face of adversity, and to some extent a siege mentality existed that normally encouraged them to support each other unconditionally in their struggles with the authorities. This made the quarrel that had erupted in 1711 between two of their members all the more serious and potentially damaging to the Roman Catholic community as a whole.
The quarrel involved the families of a young woman called Arabella Fermor, and a young man called Lord David Petrie who had been a suitor for her hand in marriage. The two of them were actually distantly related cousins as well. Arabella was an attractive young woman who normally wore her hair dressed in two long braids hanging back over her shoulders (There is a contemporary engraving taken from a picture by Peter Lily that shows her coiffured in this way). For some reason never fully explained, Lord Petrie took it upon himself to surprise Arabella by cutting off one of her long locks of hair without her permission, and he then absconded with it as a keepsake.
The parents of Arabella were outraged on their daughter’s behalf by her treatment at Lord Petrie’s hands, and they were further incensed by what they regarded as a wholly inadequate apology from the Petrie family for this insult. The Fermors felt that this incident could not simply be written off as a foolish prank of youth, and they made it clear that they regarded the lack of a proper apology as a profound slight on their own family and its social status. They felt they were being patronised by the Petrie family who were in fact hereditary lords who were only prevented by the Test Acts from sitting in the house of Lords by right.
John Caryll and other leading Roman Catholics were keen to try and lighten the mood by injecting some humour into the situation in the hope of putting things back into a more sensible perspective. Alexander Pope they felt was the perfect man to accomplish this. He was a witty observer of the foibles of humanity, and he had an exquisite satirical sense of humour that was well calculated to pierce the bubbles of pomposity and self-importance.
The project apparently appealed to Alexander Pope and he began writing the first draft of what was to become known as “The Rape of The Lock”. The word rape in this context was glossed from the classical Latin root Rapio-ere-raptum, meaning to seize something that does not belong to you. The title was in fact a nod in the direction of the well known classical account of the ‘Rape of The Sabine Women’ in the annals of Roman history.
The first draft of the ‘Rape of The Lock’ was published anonymously and circulated privately to friends and critics in Lintot’s Miscellany in 1712. This version was written in the form of just two cantos. (A canto was an Italian word meaning a song’ that came to mean a sub-section of a narrative poem, usually of some 100 or more lines in length). The initial responses were encouraging, but many felt the work could profitably be longer, so Alexander Pope redoubled his efforts and began rewriting the poem at greater length. The next version was completed and published two years later in 1714, and this one was now written in the form of five cantos.
From the outset, Pope had decided to write his poem as a mock heroic narrative and high burlesque in the form of heroic couplets (rhyming pairs of lines in iambic pentameter). His chosen satirical targets were the minute absurdities and conceits of what were known as the ‘beau monde’ (or ‘beautiful people’ in modern parlance). Most especially the courtiers and courtesans who inhabited the royal court at Hampden Court palace, where Queen Anne and her estate preferred to reside at that time.
As Pope warmed to his task, two other themes began to occupy more and more of his poetic imagination and output. One of these were the rather strange Rosicrucian writings of an occultist called Le Comte de Gabalis that Pope had recently read, which refer to an unseen order of elemental spirits called Sylphs, Gnomes, Nymphs and Salamanders. This conceit clearly amused Pope and he seized upon it as a way of parodying the concept of Theomachy found in the epic Greek works of Homer. Theomachy is a Greek word from θεος - μαχεσθαι meaning the ‘Battle of the Gods’. It refers to a trope often found in both the Iliad and the Odyssey where the gods themselves descend from Mount Olympus in disguise, and take part in the human battles around Troy and elsewhere in a wholly unseen way. Pope has wonderful fun invoking the unseen efforts of an army of airy Sylphs and Nymphs who struggle to protect the heroine Belinda from the grosser influences of the earthier elementals.
A second theme that was entirely new to this enlarged edition of the poem was the courtly game at cards that occupies almost the whole of Canto iii, where Belinda plays a three-handed game of Ombre with two other men, one of whom, known as the Baron, subsequently severs a lock of Belinda’s hair with a pair of scissors in revenge for losing to her at their game of Ombre.
The account of this game of Ombre in Canto iii is regarded as one of the most enjoyable and perfectly formed passages in the whole of Alexander Pope’s work. Later authors such as Lord Aldenham (in 1874) have written at length about it in a book entirely devoted to the history of Ombre as a card game. Suffice to say that Ombre was a game of Spanish origin that was introduced to England by Catharine of Braganza the wife of Charles II when he returned to England in 1660. The game remained in fashion until around 1727 when it was displaced by a new variant of the same game now known as Quadrille. One unusual aspect of Ombre was its quintessential three-handedness, which was so pronounced, that in fashionable salons it was often played while seated at a specially made triangular table during the 18th century.
In truth the game of Ombre in Canto iii amounts to only the play of a single hand, and even that is very incompletely described beyond the fall of the principal cards in the nine tricks played. But it is clear that Pope himself was very familiar with the game, and enjoyed playing it. The passage remains a description that has given pleasure to generations of readers for several centuries now.
The Rape of The Lock was a considerable commercial and critical success for Alexander Pope. The 1714 edition sold out 3000 copies in just four days, and was reprinted quite a number of times. The work was widely translated into French Italian and German during Pope’s lifetime, and a number of versions with lavish wood cut illustrations were printed as well.
A third and final version of the poem was printed in 1717 with the addition of a speech by Clarissa on good humour.
The one thing that the poem didn’t really achieve was any success in healing the social feud between the Fermor and Petrie families. The Fermors were said to have been very upset at being lampooned in the first edition, and David Petrie himself died of smallpox in 1713 aged 24 just two years later. Arabella was apparently flattered by being cast as the heroine Belinda, and was said to have become very “troublesome and conceited”. She subsequently married another man called Francis Perkins of Ufton in 1715 and died in 1737 aged 41 after bearing him six children - She had been just 15 years old when her lock of hair was cut off.
The Game of Ombre in Canto iii of Pope’s ‘Rape Of The Lock’
Belinda now whom thirst of fame invites
Burns to encounter two adventurous knights
At Ombre singly to decide their doom…
- Ombre was played by three persons. It was a card game where a soloist took on the other two. Belinda is eldesthand, the Baron is middlehand. The third player is the dealer.
Each band the number of the sacred nine…
- Each player received nine cards from a 40 card deck (8.9.10 of each suit was removed).
The skilful nymph reviews her force with care
Let Spades be trumps she said, and trumps they were.
- Belinda has become the soloist and has named Spades as her chosen trump suit.
Spadillio first unconquerable lord
Led off the two captive trumps, and swept the board.
- Belinda has first lead. She plays Spadillio or A♠︎ the highest trump, and wins the trick.
And many more Manillio forced to yield
And marched a victor from the verdant field.
- Belinda plays Manillio or the 2♠︎ which is the second highest Matador trump, and wins the trick.
Him Basto followed, but his fate more hard
Gained but one trump and one plebeian card.
- Belinda plays the third highest Matador A♣︎ and wins, but the dealer is void of trumps, and discards. She orginally held 4 trumps and hoped the other 7 would divide 4/3, but they have split 5/2.
With his broad sabre next, a chief in years
The hoary majesty of Spades appears
- Belinda plays K♠︎ the fourth highest trump card, and the last one she possesses.
The rebel knave who dares his prince engage
Proves the just victim of his royal rage
Even mighty Pam that kings and queens o’erthrew
And mowed down armies in the fights of Lu
Sad chance of war! now destitute of aid
Falls undistinguished by the victor Spade.
- Belinda’s K♠︎ captures the J♠︎ from the Baron, and J♣︎ (known as Pam in Loo) from the dealer.
Belinda now has a problem. She has won the first four tricks by leading the top four trump cards and she needs just one more trick in order to take Sacardo (an absolute majority of 5 tricks from the available 9). But she doesn’t have any more trumps left. There were 11 trump cards to start with (The ten cards of the Spades suit plus Basto the A♣︎ ). So far 10 trump cards have appeared in play which means one trump card is still unaccounted for, and it must be in the hand of her most dangerous opponent the Baron - given that the dealer has been discarding side-suits since trick two.
Belinda was clearly hoping that the adverse trumps would divide 4/3 between her opponents, leaving her able to draw them all by playing off her own top four trumps. Unfortunately the adverse trumps divided 5/2 and it was the Baron who held five of them to start with, and he still holds the last trump, while Belinda now holds none. The risk is that if Belinda now tries to develop one of her non-trump side suits, the Baron may well be able to trump her with that last Spade, and then take all the remaining tricks with Belinda unable to regain the lead.
Now to the Baron fate inclines the field
His warlike Amazon her host invades
The imperial consort of the crown of Spades
The club’s black tyrant first her victim died
Spite of his haughty mien, and barbarous pride.
- Belinda plays the K♣︎ but the Baron is void of Clubs, and trumps her K♣︎ with Q♠︎ the last trump.
The Baron now his diamonds pours apace
The embroidered king who shows but half his face
And his refulgent queen with powers combined
Of broken troops an easy conquest find
- The Baron brings in his own long suit of Diamonds and wins the next two tricks with K♦︎ and Q♦︎.
The knave of diamonds tries his wily arts
And wins (oh shameful chance !) the queen of hearts.
- The Baron plays the J♦︎ and wins the eighth trick. Belinda has to discard the Q♥︎ .
At this, the blood the virgin’s cheek forsook
A livid paleness spreads o’er all her look
She sees and trembles at the approaching ill
Just in the jaws of ruin, and Codille.
- Belinda and the Baron have now each won four tricks. She will lose by Codille if he takes another. Codille is a very expensive loss. A forfeit equal to all the money on the table.
And now (as oft in some distempered state)
On one nice trick depends the general fate:
An ace of hearts steps forth; the king unseen
Lurked in her hand and mourned his captive queen
He springs to vengeance with an eager pace
And falls like thunder on the prostrate ace.
- The Baron leads the A♥︎ to the final trick, but Belinda plays the K♥︎ and wins the final trick.
Of all the verses relating to the game of Ombre, this is the one most likely to puzzle anyone unfamiliar with the rules of Ombre. Why does the K♥︎ beat the A♥︎ ?
The answer is that in a non-trump red suit like Hearts the cards rank —> K.Q.J.A.2.3.4.5.6.7
Had the suit of Hearts been a trump suit, then under the rules of Ombre the A♥︎ would have been promoted to the rank of fourth highest card (known as Punto) after the three Matador trumps, and would indeed have beaten the K♥︎. But Hearts are not the trump suit here, so the K♥︎ beats the A♥︎, and Belinda wins the crucial final trick.
The nymph exulting fills with shouts the sky
The walls, the woods, and long canals reply
- Belinda’s capture of that final trick means she wins by Sacardo, an absolute majority of 5/9 tricks.
In theory, the soloist at Ombre can also win a Sacardo by taking a relative majority with just four of the nine tricks, providing that the adverse tricks are divided 3/2 amongst their opponents. Given that Belinda and the Baron had each taken four tricks apiece, this settlement was never going to happen. Conceivably the dealer might have won the very last trick which would have produced a 4/4/1 tie, known as a Puesta in Ombre. But given that all the adversarial strength was in the Baron’s hand, the only two likely outcomes were a Sacardo in Belinda’ favour, or a Codille in that of the Baron.
The one part of the hand not described in the poem is the bidding and exchange of cards-in-hand with the stock of 13 undealt cards before the start of play. Most commentators make the assumption that Belinda said “I ask leave to play” and that the other two players assented. This meant that Belinda was now the soloist and was committed to taking five of the nine tricks in play. If she elected to exchange cards with stock, then she would have done so after naming her chosen trump suit, but before leading a card to the first trick. Lord Aldenham in his book The Royal Game of Ombre (1874) offers a reconstruction of the hand in which he suggests that Belinda discarded four cards (she could have discarded as many as she wished), and finished up with:-
A♠︎ (Spadille)
2♠︎ (Manille)
A♣︎ (Basto)
K♠︎
KQ♥︎
K♣︎
xx♦︎
Lord Aldenham makes the interesting point that ‘Sir Anonym’ (as he calls the other male player) would have tried hard to win at least one trick if at all possible in order to hold the division of tricks to a 4-4-1 Puesta or tie, rather than hand the Baron the windfall profit of a 5-4-0 Codille in which case Belinda would have paid a large forfeit directly to the Baron himself, rather than to the table.
It is worth noting that in addition to winning the stake for that hand, Belinda would also have won a Reward of two counters from each opponent, as well as an extra premium for holding all three Matador trumps, as well as a faux matador namely the K♠︎ in unbroken sequence with them.
I disagree with Lord Aldenham’s assumption that Sir Anonym was the middlehand. This is contrary to the sense of the description in the poem where the cards played by the Baron are named after those of Belinda and ahead of those belonging to the other male player. (The deal and play goes anti-clockwise around the table in Ombre). Belinda was the eldest hand (she had the first lead) and the Baron was middlehand.
EMM 20250423
