The Chester Railway Poster

I’d run the Chester poster past Chris from the online catalogue and had been pleasantly surprised by her response. I could see what she meant. The colours were vibrant and it was clearly in excellent condition. It almost looked too good to be true for a ninety-year-old piece of paper. Could it be a modern copy? The short answer is no. Modern copies are not made to the standard sizes of the past and they’re printed on good quality art paper. The white background is very white and not faded off-white, which tends to happen to the originals. How come it looks so good then? Who knows what folk have done with their posters once bought. It looks to me that this one has been laid flat in a map chest. There are no folds and it has been backed to linen. I would be surprised if it’s ever been framed and put on display. Two small stamps in the bottom right-hand corner prove it to be a taxed Belgian import [or export], signed in 1939, and more or less conclusive proof of its authenticity.

This Chester poster has appeared at auction a number of times over recent years. The stamps in the corner prove to be a useful identifier, of course. There are other examples of the same poster out there, as well. Greg Norden’s research, printed in 2007, showed that by then copies had been sold at auction five times, reaching £481 at Christies in September 2003. Sellers of railway posters do sometimes go to fine art sales as a first port of call, but my guess is that railwayana auctions are probably better suited to reaching higher prices. If I was to spend time as a dealer, I would keep a close eye on the fine art sales like Bonhams and the specialist online poster sales like Onslows, or, indeed, other provincial auction houses, and bid only at a lower price or at the reserve price and if successful then take them to a railwayana sale in the hope of making a profit there.

The image on the Chester poster is taken next to one of Britain’s best-known and most loved rivers - the Dee. We had walked the nearby Shropshire Union canal towpath in 1967, hand in hand, and crossed the footbridge visible in the background on a Sunday school outing. Chester was part of our growing up. I went trainspotting there on numerous occasions and in all weathers during the 1960s age of steam. I was born and brought up in Cheshire when Chester was our county town, and we have just kept on going back there ever since. I have a strong affinity with Chester, and I’m delighted to have acquired this poster to help prompt more fond memories. Hardly a snip at £480 plus buyers’ premium and with framing yet to come, but worth every penny for a special item that gives us both pleasure. Claude Muncaster is an artist I’d heard of but did not know much about. It turns out that he has good pedigree and a reputation as a leading landscape painter in those inter-war years. One of the auction houses put a date of 1937 on this particular piece. Maybe I’m imagining a slightly art-deco style to the figures. Chester waterfront was obviously the place to be in your best togs, as Europe slid inevitably towards war again.

I have my own little piggy bank for frivolities like railway posters. This pot of disposable income has nearly run out now as it was accumulated when I was still earning money. The result is that round our house we have reminders in every room of places we’ve been and times we’ve had there in the form of some distinctive original artwork and these fantastic, large, colourful and sought-after images, designed with the prime purpose of shouting out to rail travellers “just look at me” from station walls all around the country. It’s heritage and legacy at the same time. Each one tells a story, even if it’s mostly about us. Nobody is going to dispose of these in a hurry [famous last words].