Seventeen rosebuds in a ring,
Thick with silver flowers beset
In a fragrant coronet,
Lucy's servants this day bring.
Be it the birthday wreath she wears,
Fresh and fair and symbolling
The young number of her years,
The sweet blushes of her spring.
Types of youth, and love, and hope,
Friendly hearts, your mistress greet,
Be you ever fair and sweet,
And grow lovelier as you ope.
Gentle nursling, fenced about
With fond care, and guarded so,
Scarce you've heard of storms without,
Frosts that bite, and winds that blow!
Kindly has your life begun,
And we pray that Heaven may send
To our floweret a warm sun,
A calm summer, a sweet end.
And where'er shall be her home,
May she decorate the place,
Still expanding into bloom,
And developing in grace.
To-day our birthday poets are limited--not in numbers, for the
publishers of cards are inundated with verses--but in those of merit.
One firm, indeed, during the last twelve or thirteen years has received
no fewer than 150,000 compositions, of which number only some 5,600 have
been found usable; not a very great number, when it is remembered that
something between ten and twelve millions of cards pass between
well-wishers in this country alone every year, and that a similar
quantity are exported to the United States, India, China, and the
Colonies. From five shillings to two or three guineas represents the
market value of a birthday poem, and the shorter such expressions are,
the greater is their value. But eminent writers of course obtain much
more. Lord Tennyson was once asked to pen a dozen birthday poems of
eight lines each. A thousand guineas were offered for the stanzas--but,
alas for birthday literature, the great poet declined to write verse on
order, even at the rate of ten guineas a line.
The Bishops, too, have been approached on the subject, for verses of a
religious tendency are more sought after than any others; those of the
late Frances Ridley Havergal are an instance. But the worthy bishops
frankly admitted that the gift of poetry had not been allotted to them.
The late Bishop of Worcester said: "I have not poetical talent enough to
write short poems." Dr. King, Bishop of Lincoln, said: "I am sorry, but
I am not a poet." The Bishops of Manchester and Liverpool also honestly
confessed to being no poets, whilst Dr. Temple, Bishop of London, said:
"I am afraid I should make a great mistake if at my age I began to write
short poems;" generously adding, "the Bishop of Exeter is a genuine
poet."
[Illustration: MISS HELEN MARION BURNSIDE.]
Perhaps the most popular writer to-day is the lady whose initials--H. M.
B.--have been appended to many millions of cards--Miss Helen Marion
Burnside, of whom we give a portrait. Miss Burnside was born at Bromley
Hall, Middlesex, in 1843, and at twelve years of age was seized with a
severe attack of scarlet fever, the result of which was that she lost
her hearing. A year later she commenced to write birthday poetry, and
her prolific abilities will be understood, when we mention that she has
written, on the average, two hundred birthday poems yearly ever since.
Miss Burnside, too, is clever with her brush, and before she was
nineteen years of age the Royal Academy accepted one of her pictures of
fruit and flowers, and, later, a couple of portraits in crayons.
We now turn to the designs for birthday cards--for though the motto is
the principal consideration, a pretty and fanciful surrounding is by no
means to be despised.
Royal Academicians really do little in this branch of art. Though both
Mr. Poynter and Mr. Sant have applied their brushes in this direction,
and Sir John Millais has before now signified his willingness to accept
a commission, it is presumed that R.A.'s prefer not to have their work
confined to the narrow limits of a birthday card. An R.A. could ask a
couple of hundred pounds for a design, and get it. Mr. Alma Tadema, when
asked what he would charge to paint a pair of cards, replied--£600.
Ordinary designs fetch from three to six guineas, though a distinctly
original and novel idea, be it only in the shape of a score of splashes
from the brush, is worth from ten to fifteen guineas.
Both the Princess Louise and Princess Beatrice have done some really
artistic work, but their efforts have not been made public--save in the
instance of the Princess Beatrice, whose Birthday Book is well known.
Cards designed by Royalty have passed only between members of the Royal
Family. They are very simple and picturesque, flowers and effective
landscapes with mountain scenery figuring prominently. It is
indisputable that women excel in such designs. Theirs seems to be a
light, airy, graceful, and almost fascinating touch; there appears to be
no effort--they seem only to play with the brush, though with delightful
results. Amongst those ladies who are just now contributing excellent
work might be mentioned the Baroness Marie Von Beckendorf, a German
lady, whose flowers are delicate and fanciful to a degree. Miss Bertha
Maguire is also gifted in the way of flower-painting, whilst Miss Annie
Simpson paints many an exquisite blossom combined with charming
landscape.
The illustrations we give show a page of what have now become ancient
cards, and another of the very latest modern styles.
[Illustration: OLD STYLE.]
It will at once be seen how the birthday card has grown out of the
valentine. The two designs in the top corner of the first are
essentially of a fourteenth of February tendency. Note the tiny god of
love, that irrepressible mite of mischief, Cupid, playing with a garland
of roses; and there, too, is the heart, a trifle too symmetrical to be
natural, with the customary arrow, almost as big as young Cupid himself,
cruelly thrust through the very middle of it. The centre card is a
French design, embossed round the edges with lace paper, with a silken
cross and hand-painted passion flowers laid on the card proper, which is
of rice-paper. The remaining specimen is exceedingly quaint in the
original, and has passed through more than forty birthdays. It is almost
funereal in appearance, as indeed were most of those made at that
period; indeed, many of the specimens of old-time birthday cards we have
examined are made up of weeping willows, young women shedding copious
tears into huge urns at their feet, and what, to all appearance, is a
mausoleum in the distance. And above all is written, "Many happy returns
of the day!"
[Illustration: NEW STYLE.]
The other set of cards, the modern ones, are all suggestive of the good
wishes they carry with them. Many of them are of satin with real lace,
delicately hand-painted marguerites, pansies, and apple-blossoms, whilst
the elaborate fan, with its flowing ribbons, is edged with white
swan's-down and gaily decorated with artificial corn and poppies. These
are from designs kindly placed at our disposal by Messrs. Raphael Tuck &
Sons. The printing of the cards is in itself an art. One of the largest
printing establishments in the world devoted to this purpose is that of
Messrs. Raphael Tuck & Sons, in Germany, whence comes the greater
portion of those required for the English market. In the little village
of Rendnitz, just outside Leipsic, from a thousand to twelve hundred
people find employment. Here may be found a room containing no fewer
than thirty-two of the largest presses, on which colour-lithography is
being printed. Every machine does its own work, and the amount of labour
required on a single birthday card is such that many cards pass through
eighteen or twenty different stages of printing, and in some
exceptionally elaborate instances the number has run up to thirty-seven.
The cards are printed on great sheets of board, and from a thousand to
fifteen hundred such sheets, so far as one colouring is concerned,
constitute a good day's work. These sheets measure 29 inches by 30
inches, and when the various colours are complete, they are cut up by
machinery into some twenty or more pieces, according to the size of the
card. Nor is the printing of birthday cards confined to cardboard.
Effective work has been of late years produced on satin, celluloid, and
Japanese paper; and prices range from as low as twopence half-penny a
gross to as much as seven and eight guineas for each card. The
production of a birthday card, from the time it is designed to the time
when it is laid before the public, generally occupies from eight to nine
months.
[Illustration]
_The Architect's Wife._