In honour of the upcoming festive season, Ash, one of our Civic Engagement Volunteers, looks for Christmas-themed items in the collection….

In this blog we shall explore a few items with a Christmas theme from the University of Edinburgh’s Heritage Collections. Initially I viewed two commonplace books from the 1850’s entitled “Mother’s Christmas book” and “A Christmas offering for our mother”, both featuring poetry, prose and illustrations whose creator’s identity is sadly unknown.[1]

The images above are from the cover and opening pages of the first volume dated Christmas day 1852, the portrait understood to be that of the artist and creator of the books. In the introduction he makes the following dedication:

“That dwelling within us, we can never feel alone on earth, entirely desolate. The gentlest name on earth, that lifelong love, whose presence makes enjoyment more enjoyed. That heart home for the weary ones is Mother”.

Perhaps a little saccharine in tone, but if you can’t be a little sentimental towards your own mother on Christmas day itself, that would appear somewhat harsh.

He then proceeds to compose a piece entitled “To a soot flake”. It is interesting to be inspired to choose something as prosaic and quotidian to form the subject of a work of poetry:

“Gently and softly thou comest down, borne upon the balmy air. Slowly and sadly thou sinketh down, like a soul overcome with care. And now again thou dost arise, caught by an eddy of wind. Whence didst thou first arise, floating upwards to the skies. In a cloud of smoke? was it from the flames so bright. The servant first awoke, and seizing on the sleepy child, fled away in terror wild.”

The switch between the piece of soot being wistfully observed to it becoming a threat and a danger seems to represent a common theme throughout the book of the juxtaposition between dark and light, taken by the author in outlining his Christianity.

This is explored further in a fable entitled “A legend of Marsden Rock”, which recounts the story of a mysterious arrival of a boy wearing and gold necklace and crucifix who travels alone and is welcomed as a force of benevolence and good luck, protecting the fishermen and village people simply by his presence. A malevolent force, a “gloomy man” covets the gold chain and confronts the child to steal it from him.

In the sketch above, we see the gloomy man facing the angelic child with the obvious visual undertones expressed in the contrasting darkness and light of their depiction.

In the above illustration, we see the moment when the man meets his fate for his actions, being surrounded by a crowd of encroaching mermaids trapping him on a rock upon the sea. I love how the frantic horizontal lines help convey his sense of panic and entrapment, and how unformed and ethereal are the mermaids themselves, adding to their eeriness and menace.

“The man who never feared before looked around in mortal dread, the things came thronging close around, whenever he turned his head. At last he turned his glazing eye upon the mermaids’ cave, then with a fearful yell he dashed deep in the waiting wave. He went down like a ball of lead into a leaden grave. And then the blessed sun shone out and all was bright again.”

It is interesting to note the fusion between and religious parable and the usage of the ancient mythology of the mermaid, a folklore that predates the Christian period.

Another motif that the artist uses in his visual creations is the depiction of sleep and dreams. I love the mirroring going on in the drawing above. We have the writer at his poised to write, but his eyes are closed and he is asleep. Below him we see rendered his apparent dream. In it his head and shoulder form the shape of the trees. His Ink well and quill on the left become a tree stump, and the candle to his right is transposed to a brilliant sunset or sunrise.

Another representation of sleep and dreaming above, although nightmare may be a more accurate description. To modern eyes it is clearly reminiscent of the visitation of a vampire in bat format, however the period when this was drawn in the 1850s is some decades earlier than the publication of Bram Stoker’s Dracula in 1897, the first text to associate the legend of vampires with bats.

Whilst it is always a little sad and frustrating not to know the identity of the creator of such a creative treasure, it is nevertheless a privilege to have viewed it and to here enable others to enjoy the writings and illustrations.

Although this text was entitled a Christmas book, it was not until later in the Victorian era that the type of decorations that we associate with Christmas today became more prevalent. Therefore, to infuse some of that artistic tradition into this blog I also viewed a collection of Christmas cards from 1878 as created by James Geikie (1839-1915),[2] Professor of Geology at University of Edinburgh. [3] Also included are items from a collection of Victorian printed ephemera.[4]

In the example above from 1874 there is a fine display of the intricate design and illustration skills being employed for simply an envelope containing a Christmas card. It features a beautiful border reminiscent in style of the Greek key meander motifs, with symmetric floral and symbolic patterns rendered in green, gilt and white tones.

Some examples of colourfully illustrated cards featuring festive robins and other animal surrounded by an abundant array of nuts and berries, inferring the promise of plentiful festive joys. The poems, including works by Agnes Stonehewer, however, emphasise the more traditional Christian qualities of the importance of gratitude, love and prayer at Christmas, together with hopes for health for the year ahead and the promise of Spring and Summer after the cruelties and challenges of a harsh winter.

The above two French images depict the offerings to the Jesus with clear visual references to the birth in the manger, and of the one truth and light inherent in the Christian faith. They are exquisitely rendered on fine lace with the artwork resonant of religious depictions from centuries earlier.

Finally, for the those more inclined towards full on Christmas kitsch capers, what could ring the festive bells louder than an image of a child in a velvet coat and ruff feeding an infeasibly oversized St Bernard dog.

I hope this blog brings a little seasonal joy to all, and I should like to thank my supervisor Laura Beattie (Engagement Officer, Communities University of Edinburgh Heritage Collections) for advice and support, and to all the expertise and kindness of the staff at the Centre for Research Collections for enabling access to view these collections.

[1] https://archives.collections.ed.ac.uk/repositories/2/resources/83269

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Geikie

[3] https://archives.collections.ed.ac.uk/repositories/2/archival_objects/21442

[4] https://archives.collections.ed.ac.uk/repositories/2/resources/87197