The Quiet Charm of "The Cottage by the Sea"

 Every postcard in a collection tells two stories: the one captured in the ink on the front, and the one hidden in the history on the back. This particular piece, titled "The Cottage by the Sea," is a beautiful example of mid-century Irish nostalgia, pulling us back to a time of rugged coastlines, lime-washed stone, and the slow pace of Atlantic life.

The Scene: A Glimpse into Coastal Life

The front of the card features a vibrant illustration by an artist signed simply as L. Murdoch. The painting depicts a traditional Irish "long cottage" with a heavy, possibly slate or bitumen-coated roof, nestled against a rocky outcrop. The white-washed walls pop against the muted greens and ochres of the surrounding scrubland.

In the background, the deep blue of the sea meets a pale, hazy sky. If you look closely at the path leading toward the water, you can spot two small figures—perhaps children or a couple—adding a sense of scale and life to the otherwise solitary landscape. The artwork captures that specific "soft" Irish light, where the sun feels filtered through a layer of salt spray and Atlantic mist.

Behind the Card: Scholastic Production Co.

Turning the card over reveals its pedigree. It was published by the Scholastic Production Co., Ltd., Belfast, a firm that has become a bit of a cult favourite among postcard collectors (deltiologists).

Based in Belfast, Northern Ireland, the Scholastic Production Company was active from the late 1930s until it was eventually wound up in December 1955. They were known for their "Art Series" postcards, which often featured the work of prominent Irish landscape artists like Maurice Canning Wilks and, of course, the artist of this piece, Lilian Murdoch.

One of the "dead giveaways" for a Scholastic card is the distinctive deckle edge—that wavy, rippled border that gives the card a tactile, vintage feel. This card also bears the "ACME" logo at the top centre, featuring a stylized bird (likely a swift or swallow) carrying a letter, a mark of quality and "British Manufacture" that the company used to distinguish itself from international competitors.

Dating the Postcard

While the card is unposted and lacks a postmark, we can narrow down a likely date of publication:

• Publisher Window: The company operated between ~1938 and 1955.

• The Serial Number: This card is numbered No. 9052. Scholastic’s numbering systems were often "shambolic," as some historians put it, but the 9000-series is generally associated with their later output.

• Artistic Context: Lilian Murdoch was actively supplying artwork to Scholastic during the late 1940s and early 1950s.

Given the crispness of the "ACME" logo and the high serial number, it is very likely this card was printed between 1948 and 1953.

A Collector's Note

What makes this card special is its "new-old stock" condition. It never fulfilled its destiny of carrying a "Wish you were here" message through the mail. Instead, it remains a pristine window into the mid-century Irish art scene. For those who love the North Antrim coast or the wild fringes of Donegal, this card isn't just paper—it’s an invitation to a quieter era.

The Gilded Age of Ashford: Unveiling the "Royal Cinema de Luxe" Postcard

 There is a specific kind of magic found in the tactile grain of an old postcard. As a collector, I’ve spent years hunting through flea markets and online archives, but few pieces capture the transition from the Victorian era to the age of mass entertainment as elegantly as this latest addition to my collection: The Royal Cinema in Ashford, Kent.

This postcard, part of "The Nevitsky Collection" under the "Lost Empires and Picture Palaces" series (No. 1), isn't just a piece of cardstock; it is a portal to a time when going to the "flicks" was a grand, formal event.

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Royal Cinema, Ashford, Kent

An Architectural Gem in the Heart of Kent

Looking at the front of the postcard, the first thing that strikes you is the building's imposing façade. The Royal Cinema de Luxe, as the marquee proudly proclaims, was a far cry from the utilitarian multiplexes we visit today.

Located on Bank Street in Ashford, this building originally opened its doors in the early 20th century. The architecture captured here shows a fascinating blend of styles. The Dutch-style gabled roofline gives it a regal, almost civic importance, while the arched windows and symmetrical pilasters suggest a classical influence.

If you look closely at the image, you can see the staff standing outside—men in formal caps and suits, looking every bit like the guardians of a high-society establishment. To their right, children linger near the entrance, perhaps captivated by the posters for "Living Pictures." In an era before television and the internet, these walls held the only window to the wider world.

The "Living Pictures" and the Allure of the Screen

The marquee on the postcard features the words "Living Pictures" and "Cinema De Luxe." The term "Living Pictures" (or Tableaux Vivants) was often used in the early days of cinematography to describe the transition from static photography to moving film.

In the early 1910s and 20s, a trip to the Royal Cinema was an immersive experience. You weren't just watching a film; you were accompanied by a live pianist or even a small orchestra that provided the "soundtrack" to the silent reels. The posters visible in the scan hint at the adventurous serials and melodramas that would have drawn crowds from across the Kentish countryside.

Behind the Card: The Nevitsky Collection

The reverse of the postcard reveals its pedigree. It belongs to The Nevitsky Collection, published by Piccadilly Plaza Postcards. For collectors of "Cinema-tiana," this series is highly regarded for its focus on the "Lost Empires"—those grand theaters and music halls that have since been demolished or repurposed.

The serial number A676X and the designation of No. 1 suggest this was a flagship entry in the set. Finding a clean, unposted version of this card is a treat; the lack of a postmark or handwritten message allows us to appreciate the pristine typography and the quality of the sepia-toned print, which has aged into a beautiful, warm biscuit hue.

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The Evolution of the Royal Cinema

While this postcard freezes the Royal Cinema in its prime, history moved on. Like many "Picture Palaces" of its era, the building underwent several transformations:

• The Silent Era: As seen here, it was the pinnacle of local entertainment.

• The "Talkies": The cinema would have had to undergo significant acoustic renovations when sound came to film in the late 1920s.

• The Bingo Era: Like many grand British cinemas, the mid-20th century saw a decline in ticket sales due to the rise of TV, leading many venues to be converted into Bingo Halls.

• The Modern Day: Today, while the "Royal" name lives on in various forms in Ashford's history, the specific grandeur captured in this postcard remains a ghost of Bank Street, reminding us of a time when the building itself was as much a star as the actors on the screen.

Why We Collect "Lost Empires"

People often ask why I collect these specific glimpses of the past. To me, this postcard is a reminder of the social fabric of Kent. The Royal Cinema was a meeting place, a site for first dates, and a source of news during global conflicts.

When you hold this card, you aren't just looking at a building; you're looking at the collective memories of thousands of Ashford residents. It’s a tribute to the architects who believed that even a small market town deserved a "Picture Palace" of its own.

A Highland Time Capsule: Exploring a Vintage Multi-View Postcard of Fort Augustus

 There is a unique magic in holding a "Real Photograph" postcard. Unlike mass-printed lithographs, these cards were produced directly from photographic negatives, offering a depth and clarity that transports you straight into the past. This particular gem from my collection features a multi-view layout of Fort Augustus, serving as a mid-century travel brochure for one of Scotland's most iconic locations.

Dating the Card: A Post-War Treasure

While this card wasn't sent through the post—denying us a helpful postmark—we can piece together its history through "deltiology" (the study of postcards). The phrase "A REAL PHOTOGRAPH" printed on the reverse, combined with the "Printed in Great Britain" mark and the clean, sans-serif typography, strongly points to the late 1940s to early 1950s.

During this era, the United Kingdom was emerging from the shadow of WWII, and domestic tourism to the Highlands was booming. Multi-view cards like this were incredibly popular as they offered tourists a "greatest hits" compilation of their visit in a single souvenir.

Fort Augustus, Scotland

The Views: A Window into the Great Glen

The front of the card presents a curated selection of Fort Augustus's most famous landmarks. Each frame tells a story of the village's dual identity as a military outpost and a spiritual sanctuary.

1. The Majestic Fort Augustus Abbey

The centrepiece of the card is undoubtedly the Benedictine Abbey. Originally a Hanoverian fort built in 1729 to suppress Jacobite uprisings, the site was transformed in the 1870s into a monastery and school. In this photograph, we see the imposing Gothic Revival architecture in its prime. For decades, the monks were a vital part of the community, running a prestigious school until its closure in 1993. Today, the building lives on as "The Highland Club," but in this postcard, it remains a quiet bastion of monastic life.

2. The Engineering Marvel: The Caledonian Canal

Another view captures the famous flight of locks on the Caledonian Canal. Designed by Thomas Telford and opened in 1822, these locks are the heart of the village. In the mid-20th century, you would have seen a mix of working fishing boats and early leisure craft navigating the 40-foot drop between the canal and Loch Ness. The stillness of the water in the photograph highlights the engineering precision that carved a path through the Great Glen.

3. Scenic Splendor: River Tarff and Loch Lochy

The smaller vignettes often include the River Tarff or the nearby Loch Lochy. These views emphasize the rugged, "untouched" beauty of the Highlands that has drawn visitors for centuries. The River Tarff flows into Loch Ness right at Fort Augustus, providing the lush, green backdrop seen in the card.

Why This Postcard Matters to Collectors

For a deltiologist, a card like this isn't just a piece of paper; it’s a record of a disappearing world.

• The Photographic Quality: Because it is a real photograph, the resolution is high enough to see tiny details—the fashion of a passerby on the canal path or the specific masonry of the Abbey.

• Social History: It represents the "Golden Age" of the British postcard, a time when sending a card was the primary way to share a holiday experience before the advent of digital photography and social media.

• Topographical Accuracy: These cards are invaluable to historians looking to see how the landscape and architecture of the Highlands have shifted over the last 70 years.

Conclusion

Fort Augustus remains a "must-see" stop on any tour of Scotland, famous for its Nessie-hunting cruises and stunning canal-side walks. Looking at this postcard, it’s clear that while the world around it has changed, the village’s core appeal—its history, its engineering, and its breathtaking natural beauty—remains perfectly preserved.

Across the Menai: A Mid-Century Postcard Tale from Surbiton to North Wales

 There is a unique magic in holding a piece of history that was once tucked into a post box on a breezy Welsh afternoon. This latest addition to my collection—a vibrant "Cotman-Color" series postcard—captures more than just a famous landmark; it captures a moment of mid-century leisure, a family's awe at British engineering, and the enduring charm of the "wish you were here" tradition.

Whether you are a dedicated deltiologist (a collector of postcards) or a fan of Welsh history, this particular artifact offers a wonderful deep dive into the 1950s or 60s era of British domestic tourism.

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The Menai Bridge, Anglesey

The View: Thomas Telford’s Masterpiece in Technicolor

The front of the postcard features a stunning, high-angle view of the Menai Suspension Bridge, titled simply "THE MENAI BRIDGE" in a clean, sans-serif font at the bottom left. The image is a classic example of the Jarrold & Sons Ltd printing style, known for their "Cotman-Color" series based in Norwich, England. These cards were famous for their saturated, painterly quality that made the British landscape look like a vivid dream.

In this frame, we see the bridge stretching elegantly across the Menai Strait, connecting the mainland of North Wales to the Isle of Anglesey. The composition is particularly peaceful:

• The Bridge: You can see the rhythmic limestone arches supporting the approach and the long, sweeping suspension chains that were a marvel of the early 19th century.

• The Water: The Strait is a deep, reflective blue, with gentle ripples in the foreground near a small white yacht moored on the right.

• The Shoreline: On the left, a charming stone building with a green upper story sits right at the water's edge, surrounded by lush, dense summer greenery.

Looking at this image, it is easy to see why the senders described the scene as "very impressive". Even today, nearly 200 years after its completion in 1826, the bridge remains a titan of civil engineering.

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The Message: A Snapshot of a Family Holiday

Turning the card over reveals the personal side of this historical fragment. The handwriting is neat and confident, written in blue ink that has held its colour remarkably well over the decades.

The message is addressed to a Mr. H. F. Welham at 7 Surbiton Hill Rd, Surbiton, Surrey. Surbiton, a leafy suburb of London, was (and is) a world away from the rugged coastline of North Wales. For Mr. Welham, receiving this card would have been a colourful reminder of his friends’ adventures far to the north.

The note reads:

"Dear Mr. Welham, We are enjoying a holiday in North Wales this year, we have been across to Anglesey via the Menai Bridge today, very impressive. We do hope you are keeping well, Best Wishes from Grace & Ted Collins. Ken & Geoffrey."

This short note tells a quintessential story of the British touring holiday. In the post-war era, as car ownership increased, families like the Collins would pack up their vehicles and head to the coast or the mountains. Crossing the Menai Bridge wasn't just a logistical necessity; it was an event—a highlight of the trip that warranted a report back to friends in Surrey.

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Dating the Artifact: Stamps and Postmarks

As collectors, we often play detective to find the exact "when" of a card. This piece offers several clues:

1. The Stamp: The card bears a purple 3d (three-old-pence) stamp featuring the young Queen Elizabeth II. This is part of the "Wilding" series, which was the standard definitive stamp from 1952 until the late 1960s.

2. The Publisher: Jarrold & Sons Ltd of Norwich began their "Cotman-Color" series in the 1950s. The style of the logo and the typography suggests this is likely from the late 50s or early 1960s.

3. The Postmark: While the date is partially obscured, the sorting office is visible as CAERNARVON (the English spelling of Caernarfon used during that period). The time is marked as 11 AM.

Based on the 3d postage rate and the stamp design, we can safely place this card in a time when the British seaside and mountain resorts were at the height of their popularity, before the dawn of cheap Mediterranean package flights changed holiday habits forever.

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Why the Menai Bridge Matters

The bridge shown on this card is more than just a pretty picture; it is a monument to the Industrial Revolution. Designed by Thomas Telford, it was the first major suspension bridge in the world.

Before it opened, travellers to Ireland had to brave the dangerous currents of the Menai Strait by ferry to reach Holyhead. Telford’s bridge allowed the "Irish Mail" coaches to cross safely and quickly. By the time Grace and Ted Collins drove across it in their car, the bridge had already survived over a century of North Welsh weather and had been significantly renovated in the 1940s to handle the weight of modern traffic.

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Preserving the "Small Histories"

I often wonder who Grace, Ted, Ken, and Geoffrey were. Were they a family? Perhaps Ken and Geoffrey were their sons, experiencing the scale of the Menai Strait for the first time. This postcard is a "small history"—a record of a single happy day in the lives of ordinary people, preserved on a piece of cardboard.

For those of us who collect, these cards are a way to touch the past. They remind us that while technology changes—from the suspension chains of 1826 to the digital images of today—our desire to share our experiences with those we care about remains constant.

Echoes of Steam: A Journey to Mytholmes Viaduct on the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway

 There is a specific kind of magic found in the tactile nature of a vintage postcard. It isn't just a photograph; it is a frozen moment of social history, a physical link between a traveller’s experience and a loved one’s mailbox. Today, I’m diving into a beautiful piece from my collection: a postcard featuring the Mytholmes Viaduct on the legendary Keighley & Worth Valley Railway (KWVR).

This isn’t just a scenic shot of a train; it’s a window into the "Brontë Country" of West Yorkshire, carrying a personal message that helps us pinpoint a specific era of British rail preservation and domestic travel.

Mytholmes Viaduct, Keighley and Worth Valley Railway

The Scene: Mytholmes Viaduct and USATC 2-8-0 No. 5820

The front of the postcard captures a powerful image of industrial heritage set against the rolling, verdant hills of the Worth Valley. The locomotive at the head of the train is instantly recognizable to rail enthusiasts: the USATC S160 Class 2-8-0 No. 5820.

Affectionately known by enthusiasts as "Big Jim," this locomotive has a fascinating history. Built by Lima in the United States in 1943 for the war effort, it eventually found its way to the KWVR in the late 1960s. In this image, we see it in its grey "transportation" livery, crossing the Mytholmes Viaduct. The viaduct itself sits at the picturesque confluence of the River Worth and Bridgehouse Beck, positioned between the stations of Oakworth and Haworth.

Behind the locomotive, the train consists of vintage carriages, likely "Suburban" stock, trailing steam into the Yorkshire sky. In the background, the looming presence of a traditional Yorkshire textile mill serves as a reminder of the industry that originally built these valleys and the railways that served them.

Dating the Moment: When was this sent?

Dating a postcard involves a mix of postal evidence and visual clues. Let’s look at the "detective work" for this piece:

1. The Stamp: The postcard features a light green 12½p Machin stamp. In the UK, the 12½p rate for first-class inland letters (and postcards) was introduced in January 1981 and lasted until February 1982.

2. The Postmark: While slightly faint, the circular date stamp (CDS) shows a "27" and "JUL" (July). Given the stamp price, this points strongly to July 27, 1981.

3. The Content: The message mentions a "thunderstorm" following a trip to Haworth and the railway. A quick look at historical weather records for West Yorkshire often reveals stormy summers during the early 80s, fitting the narrative perfectly.

Based on the 12½p stamp and the 1981/82 rate window, we can confidently date the mailing of this card to July 1981.

A Message from the Past: "Sampled the K&WVR Today"

The reverse of the card contains a charming, handwritten note from "Mum and Dad" to Mr. Nigel Thomas in Sevenoaks, Kent. It reads:

"Dear Nigel. Sampled the K&WVR today, but not before we did the Brontë culture bit at Haworth. Still hot, but got a bit damp in a thunderstorm just as we got back from our railway trip. Save the card for Douglas to see – we thought he would like it. Love from Mum + Dad."

This short note perfectly encapsulates the quintessential British summer holiday in the 1980s. Haworth, famous for the Brontë Parsonage Museum, remains a "culture" staple, while the KWVR provides the nostalgic "sample" of steam travel. The mention of "Douglas" suggests a child or perhaps a fellow rail enthusiast who would appreciate the technical prowess of No. 5820.

The Significance of the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway

The KWVR is one of the most famous heritage railways in the world, largely thanks to its starring role in the 1970 film The Railway Children. By the time this postcard was sent in 1981, the railway was firmly established as a premier tourist destination.

The Mytholmes Viaduct, where this photo was taken, is a favourite spot for photographers. It represents the engineering challenges of the Victorian era, where stone arches were required to span the steep, erratic becks of the Pennines. Seeing a massive American-built locomotive like the S160 traversing this English landscape highlights the wonderful "melting pot" of history that preserved railways represent.

Why We Collect

Postcards like this are more than just paper; they are survivors. This card travelled from the rainy hills of Keighley to the "Garden of England" in Kent, survived over forty years in a collection, and now serves as a digital record of a summer day in 1981. It reminds us of a time when we communicated through ink and stamps, and when the whistle of a steam engine was the highlight of a family holiday.

Whether you are a railway enthusiast (a "basher" or a "spotter"), a local historian, or a collector of "deltiology" (postcard collecting), this piece from the Mytholmes Viaduct is a beautiful tribute to the enduring power of steam.

A Glimpse of Edwardian Leisure: The Weir and Suspension Bridge, Leamington

There is a specific kind of magic in holding a postcard sent over a century ago. It isn’t just the image on the front—a hand-tinted window into a lost landscape—but the frantic, looping handwriting on the back that bridges the gap between "history" and "humanity."

Today, I’m looking at a beautiful piece from my collection: a postcard of The Weir and Suspension Bridge in Royal Leamington Spa, postmarked September 1906.

The Weir and Suspension Bridge, Royal Leamington Spa

The Scene: Victorian Engineering meets Picturesque Charm

The front of the card features a classic view of the River Leam. The suspension bridge, which once connected the Jephson Gardens to Mill Gardens, stands as a testament to the town’s Victorian heyday as a premier spa destination.

The colorization gives the water a serene, glassy blue tint, contrasting with the warm red-brick chimneys of the houses in the background. In 1906, this was the height of local fashion. Visitors would have strolled along the riverbanks, perhaps after taking the "medicinal waters" at the Royal Pump Rooms nearby, enjoying the rhythmic sound of the weir.

The Message: "A Beautiful Place"

While the image is captivating, the reverse side of the card tells the real story. Sent to Mr. & Mrs. Gushlow at 23 Bramble St., Coventry, the message is a warm, domestic dispatch from a woman named Emily to her "Dearest Annie & Arthur."

Emily writes:

"Thought perhaps you would like a P.C. [postcard] of Leamington. My dear sister & I were both there yesterday, it is a beautiful place but I daresay you have both been."

It is a lovely reminder that even in 1906, Leamington Spa was a "staycation" favourite for those living in nearby industrial hubs like Coventry. Emily goes on to mention her hopes for a visit:

"I shall come over to Coventry sometime & see you because you were both so kind the last time... we are having some beautiful weather now, so we shall be very pleased to have you both over at Melton when it is most convenient for you to come."

A Snapshot of 1906

The postcard is a perfect artifact of the Edwardian "Postcard Boom." Between 1902 and 1910, billions of cards were sent through the British postal system. The postmark here is crisp: COVENTRY, 2 PM, SP 6, 06.

In an era before smartphones, these cards were the "text messages" of the day. They were cheap, fast (often delivered the same day), and allowed people to share their experiences in near-real-time. The Half Penny green stamp in the corner was all it took to send this affectionate note across Warwickshire.

Why This Matters Today

Looking at this card, I can’t help but think of the Gushlow family receiving this on their doorstep on a Thursday afternoon in September. The "beautiful weather" Emily mentions has long since passed, and the suspension bridge in the photo was replaced decades ago, but their connection remains preserved in ink.

Collections like these remind us that history isn't just about Kings and Wars; it's about sisters taking day trips to the river and friends promising to visit one another when the weather is fine.