Stories from the Store: The Very Dickens

Source: The Dickinson Review (House Edition) No. 16, published by John Dickinson & Co. Ltd., dated 1951.  Part of the Dacorum Heritage collection, cared for at The Museum Store in Berkhamsted.

It occurred to us back in the summer that there must be many intricacies involved in printing Christmas Card blanks – whether to use letterpress or die-stamping, gravure or litho – how to anticipate the Christmas mood a couple of years ahead of time, or find new ideas based on the same old traditional theme.

We decided to go and have a word with the person or persons concerned, to find out what the extra ‘something’ is that goes into the making of a Dickinson Christmas Blank.  We found, huddled in a corner, coat collar turned up over his ears, trying to keep out the sun’s hot rays – Mr. T. A. Hunt, Card Studio, in the throes of creative convulsion.  Here is his view of Christmas and all it entails.

Image: The original illustration in The Dickinsons Review that accompanied the article.

Just as most people are searching for holes in their bathing suits, shaking last year’s sand out of beach shoes, a Robin appears on the end of my desk.

“Good heavens”, I grumble, “you again?”

“Yes, yes”, he chirrups testily, “Come along, you know the time”.

So I put on my jacket again and close the window, for the seems to have suddenly become chilly.  I get out a battered recipe book marked “CHRISTMAS – for the use of” and speculatively turn the pages.

“Well, Robin, what is it to be?”  I sigh without looking at him.

“Read out some things and perhaps the ‘brain’ might turn over”, he says, somewhat sarcastically I feel.

“Take one large portion of snow, sprinkle indiscriminately…” I read.

“No, never – not that again”, the Robin groans.

The groan is justified for we started that way last year, and the year before, and the year before that, and it looks as though we shall go on having large doses of snow forever – bless it!

I thumbed through some more pages and read absently – “Take a large, jolly-coloured stage coach and whisk it across a blanket of snow, place mine host on the inn steps, waiting, arms akimbo – some running hostlers, shouting boys, barking dogs.  Or dash same stage coach across a deserted landscape, peaceful, snowclad – passengers huddled, red faced and happy, post horn bellowing, horses extended – a jolly boisterous Christmas”.

Image: Historic street scene – the High Street, Berkhamsted showing (l to r) The Swan on the corner of Chesham Road, The Crown and the Kings Arms.  Watercolour by Harry Sheldon, part of Berkhamsted Town Council’s collection, cared for at The Museum Store, Berkhamsted.

“I seem to have heard that one before”, says the Robin looking bored.

“All right, all right, take away the stage coach, the light is now failing rapidly, the snow is blue-grey”, I wax dramatic, “the snowfull sky is split by a fearful setting sun – two lone old figures trudge through virgin snow towards a primitive but solid-looking dwelling”, I raise my voice, “a lighted window glows across the distance, the figures carry bundles of sticks homeward bound with their Christmas Fuel”, I end with a sob, “Don’t you be a Christmas ‘fuel’,” snaps the Robin, “nevertheless that last one is certainly a tear jerker and should bring considerable happiness to many – rough the idea out!”

“And I can put a Church spire in the distance with a lit-up clock face” I say eagerly.  “No?  er – no”.

“Some holly, then” I recover my enthusiasm, “Spiny, shiny, glossy and green, big red berries – grand stuff”.

“What about Dickens”, says Robin, unmoved, “Mr. Pickwick, the Christmas Feast, unbelievable food – these days!”

“That’s right, Robin”, I pipe up, “Dickens invented Christmas they say”.

“The Night Watchman – now that’s a nice theme”, says the Robin, “his lantern lights the crisp snow, he looks enviously at the lighted windows and imagines the jollity behind”.

“His is a cold vigil”, I mutter, “Let’s have the maid slip down the back stairs with a drop of something, eh?”

“No”, says the Robin.

“Let’s try holly again”, I plead, “let’s have great bundles of holly, lit by lanterns, adorned by large ringing bells, be-ribboned in fancy shapes, littered by Robins – eh?  Oh, sorry”.

“Just a sprig”, the Robin says grimly, “in gold”.

Image: Christmas card design, watercolour created by Sheila Jackman for the John Dickinson company.  From the Dacorum Heritage collection, cared for at The Museum Store, Berkhamsted.

“Well now Robin”, I take a firmer stand, “there is the true message of Christmas – the lone star and shepherds…”

“Of course” he chirps in – “Peace and Goodwill, an apt message these days”.

“Then my Robin”, I cry aloud, for it has got me now properly, “take a Galleon, a Boar’s head, some mistletoe, an old cry of London, an old print of London, a Crinoline Lady, a many-caped gentleman – beaver hat aloft.  Let’s take you Robin, a Christmas ‘pud’ a blazing fire, a black cat contemplating same.  Take anything – anything beloved, old, traditional – peaceful, my Red-breasted friend, for that is Christmas – Christmas magic.  Take them all and sprinkle ‘em around, another handful and another, it’s magic all right”, I’m screaming now, “satisfied Robin”?

But he has gone, he is on a Christmas card somewhere . . .  “Take one large portion of snow. . .. ”  Oh, shut up!

N.B. – Mr. Hunt will give a very frosty reception to any aspiring greeting-card designer seeking advice.

Image: Christmas card design, watercolour created by Sheila Jackman for the John Dickinson company.  From the Dacorum Heritage collection, cared for at The Museum Store, Berkhamsted.

Source: The Dickinson Review (House Edition) No. 16, published by John Dickinson & Co. Ltd., dated 1951.  Part of the Dacorum Heritage collection, cared for at The Museum Store in Berkhamsted.

Sourced, edited and transcribed by Pam Gasking

Newsletter Editor, Collections & Research Volunteer, D