There is a specific kind of magic found in the tactile nature of an antique postcard. It isn’t just the image on the front—a hand-tinted window into a vanished era—but the frantic, ink-smudged scribbles on the reverse that turn a piece of ephemera into a time machine. Today, we’re looking at a beautiful specimen from the early 20th century: a view of the New Court at St John’s College, Cambridge, sent with a hurried note of congratulations.
The View: "The Wedding Cake"
The front of the card features a stunning colour lithograph of what was then referred to as the "New Buildings" of St John’s College. Completed between 1826 and 1831 by architect Thomas Rickman, this Neo-Gothic masterpiece is more commonly known to students and locals as "The Wedding Cake" due to its ornate, tiered central lantern tower.
At the time this photo was taken, these buildings were already nearly 80 years old, but they still represented a "modern" expansion of the medieval college across the River Cam. The postcard captures the building from the "Backs"—the famous stretch of lawns and gardens that run along the river. Note the crispness of the Gothic arches and the delicate hand-tinting of the trees; it evokes a quiet, scholarly afternoon where the only sound might have been the splash of an oar or the rustle of a gown.
Dating the Artifact
When was this postcard published? We have a few "smoking guns" that help us pin down the date with remarkable accuracy:
The Postmark: The most obvious clue. The circular date stamp from Chelmsford is clearly marked AP 23 04 (April 23, 1904).
The Stamp: The green half-penny stamp features King Edward VII. Given he ascended the throne in 1901, the card must be post-1901.
The "Divided Back": Notice the vertical line down the middle of the reverse side. Before 1902, the Post Office required the entire back of a card to be reserved for the address, forcing senders to scrawl their messages across the image on the front. Britain was one of the first to allow the "divided back" (address on the right, message on the left) in January 1902.
The Publisher: The left edge identifies this as "The Wrench Series, No. 11328." Wrench & Son was a prolific postcard publisher that went into colonial liquidation in late 1904.
Estimated Publishing Date: Likely late 1903 or early 1904. It was printed in Saxony (Germany), which was the world capital for high-quality lithographic printing until the outbreak of WWI.
The Human Element: "Please excuse these smudges"
The back of the card is where the history becomes personal. Written in a confident, flowing hand, a woman named Irene writes to a Miss G. Self in Mountnessing, near Brentwood.
"I am so glad you have passed, I had a P.C. [Postcard] from someone (S.G.W.) dont know who it was, to tell me about it. I am going to Sidcup on Monday. Love from Irene."
She adds a charming, relatable apology in the top left corner: "Please excuse these smudges." It’s a tiny moment of Victorian/Edwardian etiquette—Irene was likely writing in a hurry, perhaps using a dip pen, and didn't have a blotter handy.
The mention of Miss Self having "passed" suggests a successful exam result. In 1904, educational opportunities for women were expanding rapidly, though they were still a few decades away from being granted full degrees at Cambridge itself. Whether Miss Self passed a local teacher’s exam or a music certification, Irene’s pride is evident.
A Journey Through the Post
The card travelled from Chelmsford to Mountnessing, a distance of only about 10 miles. In 1904, the Royal Mail was so efficient that a card posted in the morning would often arrive by the afternoon. It was the "Instant Messaging" of the Edwardian age.
The address, "Malbrooks," Mountnessing, refers to a house that likely still stands or is remembered in local parish records. This postcard didn't just carry a view of Cambridge; it carried a piece of a social network, connecting friends through the gossip of who "passed" and who was visiting Sidcup.
Why We Collect
Looking at this card, we see the intersection of architectural grandeur and mundane human life. The "New Buildings" of St John's stand rigid and eternal on the front, while on the back, Irene’s ink smudges remind us that history is made of people who were often in a rush, happy for their friends, and worried about the neatness of their handwriting.
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