… but at the first sound of “God bless you merry gentlemen! May nothing you dismay!” Scrooge seized the ruler with such energy of action, that the singer fled in terror
Let’s be honest, the fleeting appearance of a drawing instrument wielded with intent is not the first thing that springs to mind from Charles Dickens’ 1843 classic A Christmas Carol, a tale positively overflowing with memorable quotes and imagery. In truth, I too would have remained in complete ignorance of its existence were it not for a strange item that came into my possession along with a jumble of old rules.

Marked only “MARLEY’S GHOST BIRMINGHAM,” this unassuming celluloid and boxwood open-divided architectural scale had definitely seen better days, much like its literary namesake.

There was no indication of a maker, no patent markings, not even the ubiquitous legend “Engine divided”. To all appearances it was a typical promotional rule of the kind given away to clients in their thousands by travelling company representatives, especially around Christmas time as an inducement to renewed business over the coming year. However, it lacks the usual contact details and particulars of products and/or services generally found on such giveaways. Not least for this reason, it proved stubbornly resistant to my initial attempts to research its origins.

There it might have ended, but for the festive theme which led me to grab it for a quick photo session and make one last attempt to uncover any story that could explain its cryptic inscription. Happily, this second visitation turned up a solitary reference from an obscure 1934 trade journal, The Ideal Kinema & Studio. It turns out that the premises of Birmingham firm Marley Bros of Wellhead Lane were known around this time as “Ghost Works” – in obvious reference to Dickens’ character – and not inappropriately for a company that specialised in the manufacture of locks, ironmongery and door furniture!
Marley Bros features regularly in architectural publications of the 1920s and 30s as a metalwork contractor to numerous prestigious buildings. The business dates back to the early years of the twentieth century, and before that to the Victorian-era partnership of Marley & Buckingham. They were clearly alert to the marketing potential of Dickens’ famous door knocker (based on an actual example, now apparently lost), not to mention the locks and chains that Scrooge’s spectral tormentor was doomed to drag behind him for eternity, as seen in the original 1843 illustration.

Unfortunately the Dickensian tie-in did not prove lucrative in the long run, and the business was voluntarily wound up in 1950. Even so, their registered office continued to be known as Ghost Works right until the bitter end.
The firm was also implicated in what was quite possibly the only legal trial ever to involve bribery with a case of mathematical instruments, but that’s another story…
Having indulged in a little bit of Christmas past, it remains only for me to wish all my readers a happy Christmas present, and all the best for the future year!