Whenever a holiday is nestled in the week of a This Week in History release, I am faced with a tough decision. Over the years, many brilliant authors have had a go at their own histories of practically every holiday, including several on Valentine’s Day. In 2019, a former Staff Writer at The Daily Campus, Stephanie Santillo, wrote “Valentine’s Day around the world,” and in 2021, Campus Correspondent Sean Rago wrote “The strange and mysterious history of Valentine’s Day.” These articles are fantastic glimpses into the background of Valentine’s Day, including the history behind the traditions we practice today.
Considering this previous coverage, I am left with a decision: Do I cover Valentine’s Day and risk retelling history, or do I cover regular events that have happened this week, as if Valentine’s Day doesn’t matter? Typically, I choose the latter. But this week’s issue of This Week in History will go down in history as my first deep-dive into a holiday. Upon finding an off-putting Valentine’s Day card from the 19th century, I knew I had found my niche; this week, we’ll be looking at — and ranking — some historical Valentine’s Day cards.
Before we jump into the realm of strange and oddly charming Valentine’s Day cards, I must mention the process behind my search for the cards. Using the Library of Congress archives — a playground for historians, I must add — a wide variety of Valentine’s Day cards are online for anyone to view. I cant recommend the website enough if you ever have a historical itch to scratch. Likewise, one example we’ll look at comes from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a source with remarkable online collections. Thanks to both sources, the task of historical research is a lot easier than it has been in the past — please give them a look!
Specimen one: Boxed Valentine’s Day Card from 18th-century Britain
When one thinks of late 18th-century Britain, perhaps images of grand palaces and globe-spanning territorial conquests come to mind. At this point, Britain was the largest international power, establishing a dominant trade presence globally. Nevertheless, this brutal process of expansion didn’t change the British people’s susceptibility to those gushy feelings of love.
In this anonymously sourced item from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the devotion of two lovers comes to a visible climax. As a paper-crafted box, the lid reads “A token of love” — quite an emotional plea. Upon opening the box, our lover placed a picture of an elegantly dressed lady surrounded by an ornate arrangement of jewel-like decorations. Above her central portrait, a bird that appears to be a European robin sits peacefully.
In general, this little box is neat. It’s well-crafted and symbolic. If I was an 18th-century madam swooning over a man who was away conquering India, this would certainly hold me over until his return.
Score: 7/10 (would be higher if British imperialism hadn’t funded the box’s creation)
Specimen two: “By dandelion post I send this valentine to my friend” — circa 1882
Published by L. Prang & Co., a prominent publishing house founded by German immigrant Louis Prang in the 1860s. His company was quite successful at first, although by the late 19th century, it merged with other printing companies and ceased to exist sometime later. In its heyday, however, Prang’s workshop employed over a hundred women who illustrated greeting cards and other mailable lithographs, making his company remarkably inclusive considering labor norms at the time.
This item, held at the Library of Congress, is a lovely print with an ornate font spelling out, “To my Valentine. By dandelion’s post, I sent this Valentine to my friend. May every flying seedlet be a message of love to thee.” That beautiful line is accompanied by a stunning drawing of dandelions, at the center of which a young boy — potentially Cupid? — looks westward.
This whole card is lovely; the yellowing color — perhaps attributable to the age of the piece — gives it a feeling of nostalgia, yet, even if it was still fresh, the piece is all around pleasant to look at.
Whoever received this print in the mail from their lover would certainly have a lot to tell their friends; maybe they would nail it to their wall or fold it up and keep it as a keepsake. In general, this is the ancestor to what middle schoolers pass around in their classes, except it’s way cooler.
Score: 8/10
Specimen three: “By love’s own messengers I send my heart’s best wishes to my little friend” — circa 1883
Oh dear. While I praised the last design published by L. Prang & Co., I’m afraid I cannot do the same for this 1883 print. Also found in the Library of Congress, this piece has a lot going for it — at first glance. While this card has flowers in the background with beautiful pink blossoms, smack dab in the middle of that beauty is a drawing of another little cupid-esque figure who is quite terrifying.
Maybe it’s the odd hat or the ominous, dark eyes, but for some reason, the figure’s gaze is unsettling. If I was a young lovebird in the 1880s, I would stay clear of anyone who sent this Valentine’s Day card.
Score: 1/10
Specimen four: “The narrowing target” — 1914
Pushing past the 1880s, it seems that by the 20th century, Valentine’s Day became increasingly blatant in its depiction of lustful romance. In this 1914 issue of the highly popular “Puck” magazine, a woman stands against a wall with a number of arrows surrounding her body. Standing around the corner is a slouching man watching patiently as a tiny cupid — armed with his bow and arrow — says, “I’m doing the best I can, old man, but if I make one hit in twenty these days, I’m lucky.”
Not only is this a clever line, suggesting that the man had desperately tried to catch the affection of this lady to no avail, but it also shows the rising criticism of concepts of true love. While countless prints existed during this time — and still do today — which show Cupid striking the heart of a lover and suggest that love is a powerful force that “casts a spell” on people, satire like this shows that love honestly can stink.
More often than not, lovers don’t miraculously connect, and hearts don’t suddenly get won over by some stunning person. And those who let others do the difficult task of initiating love — like this old man is with Cupid — will find that even after 20 attempts, love will prove elusive.
Score: 10/10, I hope one of his arrows hits!
Conclusion:
This week in history, on Feb. 14, all of the aforementioned cards were released to the public, through a magazine or available for purchase at retailers and post offices. While some cards show Cupid and flowers and the perfect image of love, others, like the Puck example, show that Valentine’s Day stress is by no means a new concept, and has been around for at least 100 years — though I’d suggest it’s far older than that. So, whether you’re sending a card out this Valentine’s Day, or hoping that Cupid will finally hit your target, have a happy Valentine’s Day, and be sure to check out the Life Section’s special articles coming out on the day of the holiday. See you next week in history!