It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’ve been feeling thoughtful…
Round about one hundred years ago, this cheerful bunch of Scotsmen (above – note the kilts!) would have been celebrating what was probably the last Hogmanay of World War One. They seem to have found what looks like a fairly comfortable billet, and, judging from the bottles at their feet, have undoubtedly indulged in a few beers and a chorus or two of Auld Lang Syne.
A century later, and the world is still fighting. And as this year finally draws to a close, I hope more than ever that we can eventually come to terms with the increasingly glaring truth that monetized hatred, bigotry and violence are slowly destroying us and our planet.
But it is also important to remember that kindness costs nothing. Thoughtfulness costs nothing. We need more of both in 2019, all over the world. We’re not broken – not yet – but we have to take all the chances we can still get as individuals, communities, governments to help rather than hinder peace.
There are lessons to be learned from World War One and its aftermath, as well as from the rise of fascism during the interwar years. We still haven’t learned them, and that needs to change. Going down that road should never be a feasible option again, anywhere.
For me, 2018 can do one, it’s been a particularly brutal year on a personal level all round. However, I hope your New Year is happy, bright and peaceful – and, as ever, I send a huge thank you to you all. I say this every year, but it remains true. I couldn’t do this without my readers.
However you celebrate and wherever you’re from (and wherever you’re at for the festive season), I hope you have a very merry Christmas!
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Last Christmas Eve, we contemplated what might happen if Santa had got hold of a motor car in the early days of internal combustion engines (I’m still wondering if poor old unemployed Rudolph would qualify for Jobseekers Allowance, what with him being a reindeer and all).
Hunting for Christmassy stuff this year, I discovered this wonderful cover image from the December 19th 1909 edition of the New-York Tribune. I can just imagine the havoc caused on that Christmas Eve when fly boy Santa took off for his rounds in that precarious plane…
From all this, I can only conclude that Santa is an enthusiastic early adopter of technology – you know the type – he’s gone from a car in 1896 to a plane thirteen years later (and only a mere six years after the first powered flight by the Wright brothers at that).
These days, he’s probably got an iPad, sat nav, and checks his list in the cloud. He’s also annually tracked by the modern satellite technology of NORAD (which is possibly a little worrying if you think about it too much…).
However thoroughly modern Santa has become with his transportation (personally, I’d argue that reindeer are much more reliable that Siri in the long run), he’s still using old school magic tech to physically get down all those chimneys and deliver your presents. It’s hard work being an omnipresent semi-mythical gift-bringer, so I hope you’ve left out some mince pies and a shot of something warming for the poor guy!
And I really hope poor old Rudolph has finally got to put his hooves up…
For much more festive reading, follow the links here.
You’ve probably already had a few at this point in proceedings (this year, I’ve even been sent one with a rather festive zebra on it!), and I can almost guarantee you’ve forgotten somebody when sending yours, because that’s traditional…
Christmas cards. They can be a real pain to get written and sent, but are always nice to receive. We see them as a pleasant age-old festive tradition, but they only came about in their modern form in the middle of the nineteenth century.
Yep. Just like so many other things that seem to have been part of Christmas forever, the sending of Christmas cards was popularised by those Victorians. You can see a reproduction of the first commercially available card above (and you can see more Victorian and Edwardian cards in the slideshow below).
This first Christmas card was commissioned by Sir Henry Cole (1808-1882) in 1843. Clearly a shrewd man, he had previously been involved in the introduction of the hugely successful Penny Post in 1840 and later organised the Great Exhibition of 1851, plus he was the first Director of London’s Victoria & Albert museum in the latter part of the nineteenth century.
Sir Henry commissioned the well-known artist John Calcott-Horsely (1817-1903) to design the card – and a thousand copies were produced, each hand-coloured. Once Cole had written and sent his share of the cards, the rest were put up for sale for a shilling apiece via an advert in The Athenaeum:
Just published. A Christmas Congratulation Card: or picture emblematical of Old English Festivity to Perpetuate kind recollections between Dear Friends.
Showing a multi-generational family lifting a toast to the recipient and bookended by scenes of Christmas charity, the design of the card contained a very Victorian message of philanthropy, which we can also see in other such near-contemporary examples as the Christmas Books of Charles Dickens.
However, the image of a family drinking wine depicted on this card caused some controversy among the more outspoken and influential members of the Temperance Movement in Britain, who felt very strongly that the card promoted drunkenness!
Cole’s Christmas card was an immediate success, and the demand was such that a second printing had to be produced very quickly. In total, more than two thousand copies were printed and sold that Christmas – the Christmas card had, as it were, arrived.
You can see from the slideshow that many nineteenth and early twentieth century Christmas cards didn’t always look all that festive or religious in the sense that we would know it (and anyway, I’d love to know what’s so Christmassy about a ‘Beauty Spot at Bondi’, or a bunch of grumpy kittens perched upon a pipe! Admittedly, the Victorians seemed to love imagery of small and distinctly annoyed moggies – perhaps descendants of the notorious Icelandic Yule Cat?)
However, it’s also interesting to note that religious and secular seasonal themes were combined in some Christmas card art from very early on. Cards featuring angels carrying Christmas trees or guiding Father Christmas on his deliveries are yet another example of the longstanding jointly Christian/non-Christian nature of the festive celebrations.
A related phenomenon is the Victorian New Year card, which may hark back to historical celebrations of the Twelve Days of Christmas, when the upper reaches of society would exchange gifts on January 1st. You can see a few examples of these nineteenth century cards in the slideshow above, all of which depict themes of newness and/or luck in the coming year.
In recent years, such cards seem to have made a return – I have seen numerous examples on sale this Christmas (including – where else? – at the Post Office…). Greetings cards are big business in 21st century Britain, with one in six retailers stocking them. Many people also enjoy making them at home as a hobby, which obviously requires production of the relevent craft supplies (and glue all over your fingers).
Brits buy more greeting cards than any other nation, and raise around £50 million for various charities with the purchase of fundraising Christmas cards every year. You could see that as a nod back to the philanthropic message of Sir Henry Cole’s original, although I’m not sure what he would think about the auction of a rare surviving 1843 card for over £22,000 in 2001…
Cole’s small idea took wings, and now you can instantly send a Christmas card to someone on the other side of the world with just the click of a mouse. So I’m sending this post out as a Christmas card to you all, wherever you are, with love.
For more festive reading, visit the links here
Today’s spooky/silly cartoon features one of the most popular (and still recognisable) animated characters of the silent film era – Felix the Cat. First introduced to the big screen in the immediate aftermath of World War One, and possibly based on an earlier animated version of Charlie Chaplin, this cheeky and slightly surreal black and white cat was an immediate success with critics and the cinema-going public alike.
In this 1923 short, Felix encounters a ghost who is up to no good. Following the spook, he sees it scare an unsuspecting householder and the man’s livestock. The householder calls out the reserves to rescue his property from the ghost, but that doesn’t work – so Felix offers to try to lure the ghost away with a bottle of rum! Once the phantom is off the property, Felix pulls a gun on it and, in a reveal worthy of Scooby Doo, we discover it is really a human rival of the householder who is trying to scare him into selling his home…
This is the first in a slightly belated series of spooky (and slightly silly) seasonal posts. All Hallows Eve may have come and gone, but the clocks have gone back and the nights are drawing in. The end of the year is not far away, which makes this the perfect time to be telling tales of ghostly apparitions around the fire – indeed, Christmas ghost stories are a genre unto themselves.
I’ve been to a fair few extremely messy New Years Eve parties in my time (I don’t actually remember much of Millennium Eve, or NYE the year prior to that, to take but two hazy examples), which have usually ended up with me passing out on someone else’s sofa or floor in a total state – but I have never woken up the following morning in a snow drift wearing only one shoe and with an irate policeman bending over me!
Incoming hangovers notwithstanding, I hope none of you have either…
This rather fun postcard portrays those age-old questions asked by many of any January 1st in any year (“Where am I? Who am I? Who are you? What did I do last night? Ow, my head…”). You can almost see the regret in the poor man’s face. The card itself was made in Germany and posted in January 1912, making it 116 years old. Despite the cold and his imminently descending hangover (and possible arrest), I’m sure that this still-drunken early 20th century chap could teach us modern types a thing or two about partying!
While we’re all recovering from the excesses of the festive season, I’d like to wish you all (and those you love) a very happy New Year. Thank you to all my readers for your support and patience in 2017 – there is much more to come for everyone in 2018.
I wish you love, light and luck.
Stay safe and stay happy.
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The sleigh got clamped and is languishing in dusty obscurity in a garage somewhere near the North Pole, and poor old Rudolph has been deemed surplus to requirements and has unceremoniously been given his P45. Why? Because Santa has decided to get bang up to date with his transportation this Christmas, and he’s bought a motor car. And just look at him go! Those presents will be delivered extra fast this year, although he better leave all those tempting glasses of sherry alone – Santa getting nicked for drink driving would just ruin Christmas…
Dealing with inclement weather at this time of the year is nothing new. We’ve had some snow in London already this December, but it’s unlikely to be a white Christmas here this year. The early 19th century was a chilly time, though, as illustrated by this witty 1821 etching by Richard Dighton from the Wellcome Library collection. This unfortunate chap has just had his fashionable top hat knocked into his eyes by falling snow being shovelled above – just as he passes a shop selling ice skates (I love the shop’s name: ‘Careless Skate Maker’. Not sure I’d want to be shopping there if I was wanting to get out on the ice!). This was obviously a common annoyance in a wintery 19th century London, and it didn’t matter if you were an elegantly dressed gentleman like this one – the snow would still get you!
It’s almost Christmas Eve. Wherever you are, and whether you have snow or not, keep safe and warm out there…
For links to more festive reading, click here!