When Catherine Mossday purchased a printed valentine from London publisher John Fairburn in early 1797, she was an early adopter. The exchanging of handcrafted love tokens on Valentine’s Day had become common from the mid-18th century, with suitors using decorative coloured inks and ingenious folding techniques to hide secret messages. The ready-made valentine, however, was an entirely new innovation – and one with which our ancestors were immediately smitten.
Originally a Christian feast day, Valentine’s Day had been associated with romantic love and courtship since at least the 15th century, but it was celebrated like never before once preprinted cards arrived. The earliest versions featured high-quality, hand-coloured engravings, with design motifs that wouldn’t look out of place on their modern counterparts. Catherine’s card, now held by York Castle Museum, may be the oldest surviving example, yet it’s decorated with entirely familiar romantic emblems: hearts, flowers, lovebirds and cherubs. It bears the customary sentimental verse too, entreating the recipient (a Mr Brown) on this “ever happy day” to be her valentine. While we don’t know if the card was the start of a great romance between the pair, the ready-made valentine was the start of something very big indeed. By 1820 our London ancestors alone were exchanging some 200,000 cards every year.
Testament to the booming trade is the success of the ‘valentine writer’. A similar concept to the books of letter templates that were already familiar to Georgian men and women, these offered prepared verses for those lacking romantic inspiration to add to their Valentine’s Day card. Poetry to melt a young lady’s heart nestled alongside verses for those contemplating marriage for more practical reasons: “Our fortunes I believe are equal, / Let’s join to make a pleasing sequel, / At least such is my fond design, / If you’ll consent, dear Valentine” reads one example from a book published in 1810.
It was after Queen Victoria took to the throne in 1837 that the popularity of valentines really skyrocketed. The introduction of the universal Penny Post in 1840 made the sending of cards affordable for the labouring classes for the first time, and the number that were sent is reported to have doubled by the end of the decade. Technological progress helped too; quicker and cheaper manufacturing reduced the cost of producing printed cards.
Recollections of stationers’ shops tell of windows “all a bower of lace paper and satin, and hearts and darts and cupids”. Retailers went all out to encourage participation in this romantic holiday and to lure in female consumers, who were both enthusiastic card-buyers and the chief recipients of valentines. In shops like Jonathan King’s in London, customers picked their cards from sample books, while salesmen travelled the country selling the best of the valentines from London stationers.
These early years of the Victorian era are widely regarded as the golden age of the British valentine. Advances in lacework and the use of gilding and embossing led to some beautifully simple creations. But as the century marched on, and designers competed for trade, the cards on offer became ever more elaborate – perhaps a little too ostentatious for modern tastes. 3D embellishments were popular, and ladies in stationers’ workshops hand-finished cards with everything from pressed flowers and feathers to tinsel and beads. One valentine from the late 19th century even includes a stuffed canary on the front, and another, real human hair formed into a moustache! Scented cards were also fashionable, and in later years valentines commonly came with small gifts attached.
Of course, the fancier the valentine, the more expensive it was. Half a guinea was a typical price for a decorative design, but manufacturers catered for every budget, with prices starting at half a penny. There was an affordable valentine for almost everyone.
As romantic motifs, the hearts and cherubs of the early years were still going strong, but the Victorians were experimental with their designs, even deploying lobsters, and cupids in rollerskates. Messages varied too, from the forthright to the intensely romantic. One valentine from the mid-19th century features the image of a vicar and the pleasingly simple sentiment: “Quite ready for Church when you are dear.” But the Victorians were well versed in the language of love, and poetry and rhyming couplets like “My love I impart, / To the choice of my heart” were enduringly popular.
The number of cards exchanged steadily increased throughout the first 40 years of Victoria’s reign. The report of the Postmaster General for 1871 shows that in London alone an additional 1.5 million items passed through the post on 14 February, when the city’s population was only about 3.1 million. For the Post Office nationwide, Valentine’s Day had become a gruelling operation, and annual advertisements in the newspapers pleaded with the public to post their cards early.
However, it wasn’t only romantic sentiments that were sent – there was a rise in so-called ‘vinegar valentines’ too. First appearing in the late 18th century, these typically combined verses that were cheeky, unflattering or downright nasty with caricatures designed to humiliate or upset the recipient. Some were just alarmingly simple: “Indeed you are a little prig, / For whom I do not care one fig” reads one example from 1830.
These ‘anti-valentines’ caused a headache for the Post Office in the Regency years, when the recipient of such an unwelcome missive actually had to pay for the privilege of receiving it. Shocked and angry customers bombarded postmasters with requests for their charges to be refunded. When the Penny Post arrived, it thankfully shifted responsibility for payment from recipient to sender, but it didn’t stop the craze for cruel cards; the anonymity provided by the postal system helped it to flourish between the 1840s and 1880s.
Mocking valentines of the Victorian era poked fun at everyone from snobs and flirts, to alcoholics and hen-pecked husbands – though women seem to have borne the brunt of this early form of hate mail. Their appearance was a regular target: “On nearer view I must confess, / You may be thankful to your dress” reads one card from the mid-19th century. Ridiculing spinsters was another common theme: “You’re on the shelf, / Sitting, moping by yourself, / I know you do not like your fate, / So very much you’d like a mate” taunts another.
Vinegar valentines typically combined verses that were cheeky, unflattering or downright nasty with caricatures designed to humiliate or upset the recipient
Trade in these cards was always brisk – they were cheaply priced given their disposable nature – and they made up as much as half of all valentine sales at their peak. Unsurprisingly though, they were not without their critics. The press roundly condemned them as “cowardly weapons” and “an outlet for every kind of spiteful innuendo, for every malicious sneer, for every envious scoff”.
Still, by the early 1870s the exchanging of Valentine’s Day cards – romantic and otherwise – looked like a tradition that was here to stay. Yet astonishingly 20 years later valentines had all but disappeared from the market. By 1890 The Sunday Times was remarking that “valentines have long joined the ranks of those things which we read and talk about, but very seldom see”.
Some greeting-card companies claimed that vinegar valentines were to blame for the decline. The Victorians’ fervent enthusiasm for the Christmas card may also have been a factor, since many businesses turned to making festive cards instead. What most contemporary accounts suggest, however, is that the nation had simply fallen out of love with a holiday that had become over-commercialised.
The valentine wasn’t long forgotten though. A quiet revival started to take place in the late 1920s, when cards began to appear with simpler designs, stripped of ostentatious embellishment. By 1939 the Evening Telegraph was reporting a comeback, saying that the number of people purchasing valentines in one city shop “suggests that the revival is being attended with a considerable degree of success”.
However, it was not until the 1950s that the number of people exchanging Valentine’s Day cards started to reach the dizzy heights seen in the Victorian age. In 1959 The Sunday Times reported record sales – 25 million were delivered in all, an increase of 5 million on the previous year. This was attributed to “hitherto scornful teenagers” taking up the custom, because the biggest sales successes were the brightly coloured American-style cards that they favoured – a far cry from the beautifully romantic, early Victorian styles. One popular card had a packet of chewing gum attached and read: “We can be Valentines if you don’t gum things up.”
Of course, the valentine continues to prosper today. Its revival has been nothing short of remarkable: a lost tradition at the turn of the 20th century, Valentine’s Day is now the greeting-card retailers’ second-biggest holiday. Thankfully, however, the resurgence has come without the vinegar valentine – that remains consigned to history, where it belongs.