Pushing at the Edges - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to this week's Postal History Sunday entry on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  Everyone is welcome here in this corner of the internet where I explore a hobby I enjoy and share it with those who have anywhere from a passing interest to those with a passion for the subject.

It's time to put on the fuzzy slippers and grab a favorite beverage or snack.  Always be careful of your food and drink around the paper collectibles (and your keyboard).  Let's see where this week's entry takes us!

-------------------

One of my attractions to postal history is that it provides opportunities to learn and to expand my own knowledge and understanding within postal history and of the world around me.  A couple of weeks ago, I explored how I can dig deeper into something I actually know very well.  In that blog, titled With This Ring, I illustrated how my understanding for the use of a particular postal marking has become more complete over time.  I might have had sufficient understanding before, but now I can say I know that topic much more completely and with much more depth.

I also find myself pushing at the edges of the breadth of my knowledge.  After all, I will be the first to admit that there are many subject areas within the hobby where my only expertise is my ability to use basic tools for research and learning.  But, I am always probing and expanding on what I know - and I thought I would share some of those edges in today's Postal History Sunday.

Postal services beyond letter mail

I will readily admit that most of my collection, and therefore, a significant portion of my expertise, lies with the mailing of items that qualified as letter mail.  In itself, that area has plenty to explore and plenty to enjoy.  However, people have long mailed packages and newspapers, which have some characteristics that are unique to them.  And, there are additional services that could be applied to letter mail and packages, such as registration and insurance.

At first glance, the envelope shown above looks like so many other pieces of letter mail.  It has two postage stamps that have been cancelled with a grid of dots, shaped like a diamond - each with the numeral "2177" in the middle.  There is a postmark at the top left that shows us it was mailed from Malaucène, France on October 15, 1867 and the address panel tells us that the destination is Nîmes (also in France).  

I had two clues that told me this was not a typical piece of letter mail when I first saw it.  One should be fairly easy for everyone to spot.

It's in bright red ink and it does stand out.  Even if you did not know that it was something different, it calls attention to itself.  The other thing that I noticed (and you might not have) was that the amount of postage was not an amount that a regular internal letter in France would require in 1867.

Part of the knowledge I do own with respect to French internal mail is this rate structure.  A piece of letter mail might have 20 centimes, 40 centimes, 80 centimes, 160 centimes (and increments of 80 centimes from there).  This letter has 60 centimes of postage, which tells me something different is going on and I need to explore further.

But, wait!  There's more!

The back of this envelope also shows some characteristics that are not common for letter mail of the time.  Apparently, red wax was liberally applied to the envelope flap's seal to the rest of the envelope.  And, there is a box marking that I usually don't see.

I did, at the point I first saw this item, have some familiarity with what is called a lettre charge’.  For the U.S. equivalent, we can look to registered mail.  Something like this from 1918:

The three cent stamp paid the regular letter mail postage and the ten cent stamp paid for the registration service.  There is a purple box that indicates that the item is registered and it includes a registry number to aid in the tracking of this item as it traveled through the mail.  Essentially registry was a way to attempt to provide additional security when someone mailed items of value by paying the postal service to track it more carefully than a normal letter.

This was also true for lettres charge’ in France, just like the 1865 item shown below:

This wrapper carried an official court summons to a local address.  We see the red Charge' marking once again and there are thirty centimes in postage.  Ten centimes to pay the discounted rate for the local letter mail and twenty cents to pay for the "registry fee."  But, this item does not have the box on the back like our new item does.

Let me remind you what the first envelope in question looks like...

It turns out there is a step beyond registry - and that would be postal insurance to protect against loss. And there were two options at the time (1867) in France:

1.  valeurs cotée (insurance for a value assigned after inspection by the postal clerk)
   
2.  valeur déclarée (insurance value declared by the sender, but not confirmed by the postal clerk)
   

Our new item is an example of valeur déclarée - and it turns out figuring the cost of such an item requires a slightly different understanding than regular letter mail.

The cost is split into three parts:

1. A special postal rate that is calculated based on weight
2. A flat additional fee of 20 centimes (the registry fee)
3. Payment for insurance to cover the declared value of the item being sent.
   

Only the first two could be paid with postage stamps.  The third cost was paid in cash to the postal clerk.

The "charge box" on the back gives us some of the information we need to calculate the postage required.  Note first that the number "2177" is at the left.  This is the number assigned to the Malaucène post office and it matches the number in the cancellation on the stamps (cool, eh?).  The weight is written in the first two columns in grams (gr) and centigrams (c.).  So, the weight of this item is 10.2 grams.

This table shows us the special postage rates for this type of item - and since this weighed more than 10 grams, it would have cost 40 centimes in postage PLUS the flat registry fee of 20 centimes.

Total postage cost = 60 centimes, which matches the stamps shown on the front of the envelope!  So, far so good!

But how much insurance did this person take out on the contents?

Well, that is actually written on the front side of the cover and on the left of the envelope.  It reads "quattres cents francs," which translates to "four hundred francs."

The rate for insurance was 10 centimes for every 100 francs in declared value.  So, the sender would have had to pay 40 centimes for the insurance in addition to the 60 centimes in postage stamps.

And this is part of where I was lost for some time.  You see, I am used to seeing the word "franco" on letter mail during the period - and that essentially means "paid."  And, I am also used to postage and costs being rated in terms of centimes or decimes in France.  For a long time, I thought this read "4 centimes paid," which made no sense and it took me down all sorts of wrong paths! 

You see, according to references the minimum cost for valeur déclarée was 10 centimes - and amounts could only change in 10 centime increments.  Which made me wonder if it was valeurs cotée - where the cost was a percentage of the determined value.  This is where past knowledge can blind you, at least momentarily, to the truth of the matter.  It did not even occur to me that this was equivalent to someone in the US writing "four hundred dollars,"  and I was not even thinking that they would write the declared value on the envelope instead of the cost of the insurance.

And that, my friends, is how you push the edges of your understanding out just a little bit further.

I can get this from Denmark to France, but...

And here is an example of a postal history item that is pushing the borders of my knowledge today.  This letter is from Christiania, Norway (now known as Oslo) to Bordeaux, France.  The letter was mailed in July of 1852 and was taken via Denmark, Hamburg, the Thurn & Taxis mail system, and then entered France at the border with Belgium.

I can tell you that the big, black "11" marking on the front indicates that 11 decimes were due to pay for the postage to get the letter from Denmark to Bordeaux.  I can tell you this rate was effective from August 1, 1849 until February 28, 1854 and the rate was 11 decimes for every 7.5 grams in weight, payable when the recipient received the letter.

I can also tell you that this letter was prepaid from Christiania to the border of Denmark!

The docket at the lower left on the front reads "fco dansk grandse," which essentially translates to "paid to the Danish border."  So, the sender paid SOME of the postage to get it part way to its destination.  The recipient paid to get this item FROM the border to Hamburg and then to France.

But, I can't tell you with the knowledge I have HOW we get from Christiania to Hamburg.  I can't tell you how much the sender paid to get the letter that far.  I do not know what the rate structure was for mail from Norway at the time and I don't know what time periods these rates were effective.  I think the weight unit used was the "lod" in Norway, but that's about it. 

And, I have no idea what the marking shown below might be for - or if it is important to reading the story as to how this letter traveled from here to there.

There are all sorts of barriers that could encourage me to just accept what I know now as a "good enough" explanation.  It is likely the best resources for my answers are written in Norwegian or Danish, and I know neither.  Most places that I go to look for information show very little for the Nordic and Danish postal systems, so I have far less familiarity with the area as a whole.

But, this has not stopped me before.  There was a time that I wasn't even sure how to figure out a basic letter in France - and now I can tell something does not fit the standard letter rates by just looking at it.

This is another example of how I keep pushing the edges of what I know - and it leads to even more edges to explore.

One more edge

It turns out that I am often pushing at more than one of the edges of my hobby at any given time.  Sometimes, if progress just doesn't seem to be happening, I will set an item aside until I get the desire to push again.  Shown above is just such an item.

This is an envelope mailed at Oudewater, Holland to Arnhem (also Holland).  There are no postage stamps, just a big blue label at the bottom left.  

My basic understanding is that this is a letter that came along with a package.  In this case, there is actually reference to TWO packages.  If you look at the top, you can see the words "met 2 pakken" - "with two packages."  And, if you look closely, you will see the word "franco" on the third line, that tells me the postage was pre-paid - I presume for the packages and the envelope.  It was mailed at the railway station (Spoor) and taken by train from one location (Oudewater) to the next (Arnhem).

But, that is where my knowledge ends.  I have never really looked at this type of item before, though I seem to recall glancing over an article about these Dutch labels once in my lifetime.  

This is how it begins - maybe we'll see some progression one day if I write about it again in a Postal History Sunday.

Bonus Material

I realize I might have left you hanging with a couple of questions earlier and I thought I would give you a little more here - at the end of the blog.

Why all of that red wax?

Postal services used various ways to illustrate that the seal for a registered (or insured) letter had not been broken.  One way was to place postal markings at each seal location - like this:

Notice the purple markings state the item is "registered" and they are placed where the back flap of the envelope seals the envelope closed.  If this marking did not line up, that would be an indication that the letter had been opened.  The red wax served a similar purpose.  It was an attempt to illustrate that no one had opened the envelope prior to delivery.

What other information is held in the charge box?

I have already mentioned the post office number at the left and the weight of the item in grams and centigrams in the first two columns.  The remaining columns under the word "Cachets" are something I am not quite sure I fully understand myself.  Laurent Veglio, who has expertise in French postal history, tells me that "cachets" refers to "seals," and the columns stand for quantity (nom), color, and design.  

The next step is to understand the scrawls in those boxes and how they relate to this particular envelope.  Once I push that edge a little further out, I'll let you all know in a future Postal History Sunday!

-------------------------

Thank you for taking the time and allowing me to share with you something I enjoy.  I hope you picked up some new tidbit of knowledge and/or that you found your time visiting me here to be pleasantly spent.  

Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come!

First Time for Everything - Postal History Sunday

Every so often, I am reminded that people who are new to Postal History Sunday might be wandering into the room and are wondering what is happening here.  In fact, some folks have been standing in the corner... waiting for me to explain what is going on for a week or so!  Thanks for waiting!

Postal History Sunday is a project I started during the Summer of 2020 in the hopes that it might help others get through stress, isolation and worry during the pandemic.  I was alarmed by the amount of material being shared that was (and is) contributing to the negative feelings of the time and I was saddened by the lack of depth in many online interactions.  In a very small way, I was hoping to provide an oasis where I could explore a hobby I enjoy (postal history) and share it in a way that was interesting, welcoming, and open to all levels of interest - from just a passing curiosity to those who love postal history even more than I do.

And, hey, if you forget about your troubles during the time it takes you to read one of these posts and gives you a little balance in your life - so much the better.

This is the 79th entry in the series that appears each Sunday on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and is cross-posted on the GFF Postal History blog.  I have been posting a new blog nearly every day on the farm blog on a wide range of topics.  You are invited to read them or ignore them.  Your choice.  It's the beauty of this sort of thing.  It will be here if you want it, when you want it - for the foreseeable future.

For now, let's get to the postal history - and for those who are curious as to who I am, read on, I'll give a quick bio at the end.

------------------

As humans, we seem to have more interest in events that happen for the first time.  A child's first steps, a first kiss, the first time you stepped in a cowpie....  Ok, maybe not every "first experience" qualifies here.  But, in philately (stamp collecting) and postal history, we are not immune to paying attention to "firsts."  Today, I thought I would share a few ways we identify items that illustrate beginnings.

First Postage Stamps

Let's start with the "low hanging fruit" with respect to our topic by looking at the first issues of postage stamps.  Most stamp and postal history collectors are well aware of the first issue stamps for most postal issuing entities.  

For example, the folded letter shown above (mailed in the late 1840s or early 1850s) illustrates the five cent denomination issued by the United States Post Office in 1847.  On March 3, 1847, the US Congress authorized the production and use of postage stamps and this issue was made available on July 1 of that same year.  Five cents would pay for a simple letter (no more than 1/2 ounce in weight) to travel up to 300 miles inside the borders of the United States.  This rate was effective from July 1, 1845 to June 30, 1851.  If you are interested in what went on before and immediately after this rate period, you can take the links provided here:  before and after.

The letter shown above was mailed from Baltimore to Annapolis, Maryland - about 33 miles, which is well under the 300 mile limit.  Unfortunately for me, there is no clear indication as to the year date on this folded letter, but it still shows a proper use of the stamp to pay the postal rate.

Now, we should not confuse this stamp with the first postage stamp issued IN the United States.  That distinction belongs to Alexander M. Greig's City Dispatch, a private carrier in New York City, on Feb 1, 1842.  While I do not have an example of that item to show, I was able to show an 1844 issue by Hale and Company here.

The honor of the first postage stamp is given to the Penny Black issued by the United Kingdom in 1840.  While I do not have a piece of postal history to show, I do have an example of the postage stamp.  

If you look closely at this one, you might notice letters at the bottom left and bottom right.  These letters indicated the position of the stamp on the printing plate.  One thing many collectors like to engage in is finding a single copy of this stamp that contains their own initials or the initials of a loved one.  This particular item was a gift my lovely bride looked for over the course of several years until she found one that met her specifications (and her budget) for such a thing.  

If you would like to see the apex of where a collector could take this, go view Chip Gliedman's exhibit titled My Victoria.  He shows an amazing collection of this first design - all bearing the initials "C.G."

Of course, you can hunt for postal history that bears the first postage stamps from other parts of the world.  Below is an 1849 folded letter featuring the 20 centime issue for France - from their first design issued that same year (1849).  And, first issues are not always this old - for example, the first official postage issue by the Ukraine was in 1918.  If this area interests you, check out the First Issues Collectors Club.

First Day for a Postage Rate

A postal historian might appreciate the first issue of a stamp for any number of reasons - but they will also happily hunt for examples that show the first day a new postage rate was put into effect.  I've shown the ugly rooster cover before, but it deserves a place in this blog too!

The postage rate for internal letter mail in the United States had been 3 cents per half ounce since July 1, 1863 and it was not changed until October 1, 1883 - twenty years later.  And, surprisingly, the postage rate actually went DOWN to 2 cents per half ounce.

If you look carefully, you might notice that this item is postmarked on October 1, 1883 - the first day this ugly chicken, and the envelope that carried something from the Aultman & Taylor Company would only require a 2 cent stamp.

Any time there are changes in postal regulations, postal historians have an opportunity to identify items that illustrate the processes of change.  If I had the inclination, I could find an item that was properly mailed at the prior, 3 cent rate, on Sep 30, 1883 - the last day the prior rate was effective.  I could find another item that still had a 3 cent stamp AFTER October 1 because someone was unaware of the postage change.  Maybe I could even find an attempt to pay the 2 cent rate too early?  Who knows?

First Day of Issue

When I was younger, I knew of many people who focused on collecting covers that commemorated the first day a new postage stamp was issued.  These are known as First Day Covers (FDCs).  Below is a simple envelope that is postmarked on May 18, 1925 in Decorah, Iowa.  The Norse-American stamp had a denomination of five cents, which is 3 cents more than was necessary to mail it to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

But, properly paying a postage rate is not typically the main purpose of a First Day Cover.  The main purpose is to illustrate the postal use on the official day of issue - and newer FDCs typically feature artwork that is related to the postage stamp design.  While I do not do much with FDCs, I actually do have one blog that features the Norse-American issue (and the cover above) from November of 2020.  If you have interest in FDCs, you might benefit from viewing the American First Day Cover Society's webpages.  

First Flights

Another way we can look for firsts is by considering the method of transportation by which a letter was transmitted from place to place.  With the event of air mail, collectors were keen to create postal artifacts that commemorated the first flight from one location to another.

The first flight of Foreign Air Mail route number 18 was piloted by Arthur E LaPorte in a Boeing 314 for Pan American Airlines.  As was the case for most mail carried on inaugural flights, this item was clearly created to commemorate the opening of what became known as the “Southern Route" for FAM 18.  The decorative cachet was applied in New York.

If you look carefully, you will notice that the addressee is William Bilden and the SENDER is also William Bilden.  The address is "care of Postmaster" in Marseille, France - which means Bilden intended for this letter to be picked up at the post office.  Of course, Mr. Bilden was NOT in Marseille.  He fully intended that the letter would eventually be returned to him so he could save it as a souvenir from the flight.

Postal clerks were not at all unfamiliar with this strategy employed by collectors.  The envelope was marked "non reclame" on the back to indicate that it was not picked up.  The front includes a marking that reads "retour a l'envoyeur," or "return to sender," with an arrow indicating the address from whence this envelope originally came.

Above is a photo of a Boeing 314, which would be similar to the airplane that carried this envelope across the Atlantic Ocean on this first flight.  If you would like to learn more, you can go to this site, where I found this picture.  I will admit that air mail is NOT my strong suit, but I can find my way around the basics of the subject when a cover demands it of me.

First Sailings

As I've mentioned before, I tend to prefer to collect items that were not sent explicitly to create a piece of memorabilia.  Instead, I like to discover ways that a regular piece of mail might be connected to a story, such as a first flight - or a first sailing.

Shown above is a folded business letter that was mailed in 1869 fro Liverpool, England to Buenos Ayres, Argentina.  A one shilling stamp was placed on the letter to correctly pay the postage - 1 shilling per 1/2 ounce effective from Apr 2, 1866 to Aug 31, 1877.  All in all, it's a decent example of a simple letter from the UK to Argentina during that period.

But, my attention is drawn to the docket at the top left that reads "p Pascal."  During that period of time, it was fairly common for mail to bear the name of the ship on which the letter was intended to depart.  So, if we were curious, we could do a little searching for a ship named Pascal and maybe learn more about it and this letter.

Unidentified Lamport & Holt ship - configured similarly to Pascal

The folded letter is dated April 19, 1869 - the same date as the postmark - in Liverpool.  And, it gives the detail of the intended route "per Pascal str from Liverpool & French Mail via Bordeaux."  However, this is one time you should not believe everything you read.  The Pascal was scheduled to sail to Lisbon, then Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo, and Buenos Ayres - maybe there was also a stop in Bordeaux, but that was not among the major ports listed.  Also, the next ship leaving Bordeaux for the same destinations was not scheduled to depart until April 25, so transferring the letter off of the Pascal would have made no sense.  Instead, I am fairly certain this cover stayed on the Pascal for the entire ocean voyage.

from London Daily News April 21, 1869

Sure enough, a little bit of searching found a London newspaper reporting the departure of the Pascal from Liverpool.  Here we learn that this particular steamship was owned by the Brazil and River Plate Steam Navigation Company (also known as the Lamport & Holt Line).  This gives enough information for me to research that particular ship a little bit further.

My first stop was the Ship's List website which provides us with an overview of the Lamport & Holt Line and a list of ships attributed to that line.   This list includes two Pascals, of which this is the first, with a date of build-date of 1869.  Clearly, this ship was not very old when this letter was carried across the Atlantic.

This is where things get a bit odd.  The detail for the Pascal on the Ship's List indicates that it was built by Andrew Leslie & Company at Hebburn-on-Tyne (UK) - but the launch date is shown as Dec 13, 1869.  Her maiden voyage is listed as April 20, 1870 - a full year LATER than this letter, which clearly shows it was intended to be carried on this ship.  The newspaper clipping seems to correspond with the letter as well.  But, there is still doubt - so I did a little more digging.

The Ship's List lists the book Merchant Fleets by Duncan Haws (vol 34) as the source for its information.  It is possible that the conversion to the website introduced an error or perhaps Haws transcribed the detail for this ship incorrectly from the original source documents.

It turns out there is also a website that tracks all of the Tyne-built ships which uses primary source material such as newspapers, contemporary ship registers and other materials - probably just as Haws does.  This site shows the "launch date" as 13/02/1869 and the date the transfer of ownership to Lamport & Holt as March 22, 1869.  This lines up better with the April 20, 1869 maiden voyage indicated by this piece of postal history and the newspaper article.  Also, it is easy to see how someone might miscopy the 13/02/1869 date as 13/12/1869 (remember Europe typically uses day, month, year order).

In the end, I feel I have confirmed that this letter was carried on the maiden voyage of a new steamship in 1869.

 

Even more interesting is this screen capture from an auction some years ago.  I have removed a few details that might identify the auction company... in fact, I don't even remember which auction company it was anymore, so don't ask.  I came across this the first time I started researching this cover a few years ago.  It is likely that they also were relying on the Ship's List for information.  It is a fine source, so I see nothing wrong with this.

However, as is often the case when a large task with lots of details are undertaken, some things can slip through.  The description of the cover clearly states the postmark is 1869, yet the description of the ship says it sailed in 1870.  If you look to the bottom, the item went unsold - possibly because the special selling point (a first voyage) was in doubt with the different dates.

And now we can bring you to the story of how I came to be the present day caretaker of this particular item.  Unsold individual lots in auctions tend to become parts of group lots in later auctions.  These group lots are purchased by postal history dealers (yes - there are people who do this as a profession!) and they separate items out and price them.  I came across this in that dealer's stock and found the price to be very reasonable and within my budget (which would not have been the case in the auction).

Now, I have re-united this cover with its history.  Or at least, what I feel is a more accurate portrayal of that history.  Hopefully, I got it right.

Hey! There's a first time for everything!

------------------------------

Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoyed this week's Postal History Sunday.  I promised a quick biography for those who are curious - so here it is!

For those who do not know me, my name is Rob Faux (pronounced "fox") and I have been collecting and learning about postal history since the late 1990s, but I have been a stamp collector most of my life.  My specialty is collecting postal history from the 1850s through 1870s and I really focus on material featuring the 24-cent stamp from the US 1861 issue.

Outside of the hobby, Tammy (my lovely bride) and I own/operate a small-scale, diversified farm (vegetables & poultry).  I also hold a job with the Pesticide Action Network as a part of their Communications Team.  In a prior life, I worked to acquire a Ph.D. in Computer Science and Adult Education, teaching at a couple of different universities for a time.

Our farm, the Genuine Faux Farm, has maintained a blog since 2009.  The companion postal history blog has been active since 2017.  Postal History Sunday started in August of 2020 and will continue for as long as I have energy for the project.

Have a good remainder of your day and have a great week to come!

With This Ring - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to Sunday everyone!  It's time for Postal History Sunday, hosted on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog. 

As is sometimes the case, I got so absorbed in writing that I forgot to write a good introduction.  So, rather than even try - let's just get right to all of the fun and excitement!

---------------------

As is true in any area of life, there is knowing something and then there is knowing something.  Today's entry is one such example in my own journey of learning in the realm of postal history.  And it all centers around one simple postal marking that I show below:

What you see is a cleaned up scan of what looks like an ornamental ring, something a person might wear, with an "R" in the center.  My personal discovery of this marking came many years ago, as I was seeking out examples of the mail between the United States and the United Kingdom that bore the 24-cent value from the 1861 series of postage stamps.  

At that time, I was keen to find variations on the mail that was most commonly going to bear that stamp.  This was my focus for economic reasons - it was the most common use of my selected stamp, which means they typically cost less.  This was also my focus for educational reasons, because it encouraged me to dig around and see what I could learn beyond the basics.

1867 cover to London from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

And here it is, the cover that introduced me to the postal marking in question. Let's start with the basics and go from there - just like I did back when I first acquired this cover.  The initial attraction, at the time, was the 24-cent stamp (shown below).  While the stamp isn't the prettiest copy I've ever seen, that wasn't the goal here.  The goal was to learn how this stamp was actually pressed into service to carry mail.

The postage rate
The active postal convention at the time had been agreed upon in 1848.  This postal treaty set the postage rate at 24 cents for the first one-half ounce of weight for letter mail.  The corresponding cost for mail from the United Kingdom (UK) to the United States (US) was 1 shilling.

The red marking at the top center of the envelope is a bit difficult to read, but I have had some practice and can tell you that it reads "N. York 3 Am Pkt Paid" and is bears the date May 4.  This particular marking tells us several things.

1. The letter was considered paid by the clerk at the New York City exchange office for foreign mail.
2. Three cents were to be passed to the United Kingdom for their share of the postal expense.
3. 21 cents were retained by the United States to pay for their expenses, including the cost of sending the letter across the Atlantic.
4. The steamship would leave New York on May 4, and it held a contract to carry mail for the United States.
   

Even today, as I write Postal History Sunday blog posts, I am amazed by how much we can learn from a simple marking on an envelope.  At the time, these were the basics that I was becoming increasingly comfortable reading as a viewed more of this kind of cover.

How it got to London
This letter was mailed at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas on April 29 of 1867.  From there, the letter likely rode on various trains to get to New York City.  I would suppose, if someone wanted to do some digging, a likely railway route could be determined.  But, that's not my focus this time around.

Upon arrival at New York City, the letter was processed by the exchange office and placed into a mailbag that was sealed and taken to the HAPAG line's Cimbria for carriage across the ocean.  This mailbag was dropped off at Southampton on May 14 and arrived at London the next day where their exchange office took it out of the mailbag and placed their own red circular marking on the envelope at the bottom.

Where it got a bit more interesting

The first address on the envelope reads "Nr 4 Upper Seymour St.  Portman Square London W."  But, that address has been crossed out and a new address is written at the top right that reads "22 Princes St. Cavendish Square W."  And then, there is that ring with an "R" in the middle.

So, clearly, this letter had been redirected to a new address.  Miss Mary Rush was no longer at the Portman Square address in London and the Rushes had relocated to Cavendish Square.  After a few questions and a little bit of looking, I learned that the "R" essentially indicated that the letter was "redirected" to the new address.

Portman Square is located at the far left center and Cavendish Square is to its East.  This is segment of an 1817 map of London by William Darton.  Remember - you can click on images to see a larger version of the image if you wish!

Well, ok then.  That makes sense, so I wrote my descriptions up with that information and went about my merry way - happy to have learned something new.

Another piece of redirected mail in the UK

As I continued exploring mail between the US and the UK, it was logical that I would see other items that were redirected to a new address.  And, as I explored each one, I began to see a fundamental difference that required an explanation.  For example, here is another letter that was mailed in 1865 from Washington, D.C. to Birkenhead in the UK.

This letter weighed more than a half ounce, but no more than one ounce - so it required 48 cents in postage.  If you'll notice, there is a red "38" that tells us the British post was to receive 38 of those cents for their share of the expenses.  This time around the ship had a contract with the British so THEY paid for the crossing of the Atlantic.

Once again, we will notice that the original address in Birkenhead has been crossed out.  And, if we look closely at the bottom left, it looks like the sender of this letter was aware that the addressee might have moved on.  The docket requests that the letter be forwarded by Isaac Cooke, who likely knew where Mrs. W.H. Channing might be.  

Mrs. W.H. Channing?  Why does that sound familiar?  Oh, yes.  Our first Postal History Sunday of the year focused on ANOTHER letter to Mrs. Channing!

But, there is a problem!  Where is the new address?

Ah ha!  It's on the back!  And, not only is the new address in Hastings, Sussex found there, so are two one penny stamps to pay for a domestic letter that weighed over a half ounce (and no more than one ounce) in the UK.

Wait a minute!  They had to PAY to have this letter forwarded or sent to the new address?  I don't remember that with the first item.

It's all about WHERE it was redirected TO

For a longer time than I am willing to admit, I did not explore the fine distinction between these two letters.  I called the first item a "redirected" piece of mail and the second item was "remailed" or "forwarded."  And all of that is technically correct.  But, that did not mean I was completely aware of how the British post distinguished between the two.

So, back to the original item.  There is NO evidence of additional postage paid and there are no additional postal markings other than the ring with an "R" in it.  So, why would this letter have this special marking and the other one does not?  So, I went digging into the regulations for the forwarding of mail in the UK.

The Post Office Act of 1840 (link is to the Great Britain Philatelic Society site) set the rule that a new rate would be required for an item requiring redirection.  In other words, the item had to pay the postage AGAIN in order for it to travel through the mail to the new location.  This seems to match up with the 2nd item I shared - the one that shows additional postage stamps on the back.

The text from the postal act is below and was effective on Sep 1, 1840:

Article XIV. And whereas Letters and Packets sent by the Post are chargeable by Law on being re-directed and again forwarded by the Post with a new and distinct Rate of Postage: be it enacted, That on every Post Letter re-directed (whether posted with any Stamp thereon or not) there shall be charged for the Postage of such Letter, from the Place at which the same shall be re-directed to the Place of ultimate Delivery (in addition to all other Rates of Postage payable thereon), such a Rate of Postage only as the same would be liable to if prepaid.

It is not until we look at the British Postal Guide of 1856 that we find an explanation for our first cover (the one shown above).  Apparently, if the new location is WITHIN the same local delivery area, no additional postage is needed and the letter can simply be redirected to the new address. AHA!

The text from that resource is shown below for those who might like to read it.

The above makes the process fairly clear that an item redirected within the jurisdiction of any "Head-Office" or one of its "Sub-Offices" would be redirected without additional charge.  Below is a London Post Office Directory map from 1857 that may be accessed and viewed in more detail at the Mapco site.  It is my assumption at this time that each "Head Office" referenced in the Postal Guide translates to each of the sections shown here designated by directional markers (NW, N, EC, WC, etc).

Portman Square and Cavendish Square are both within the Western postal district and not far from each other.  Additional postage was NOT required for our first item.  Since there isn't additional postage on the cover, that's a good thing to learn.  The second cover goes to a different postal district, so it had to have extra postage.  Everything seems to add up.  So, let me throw another wrench in the works!

Redirection Fee waived, but no marking

Here is another letter that was sent from the US to the UK.  The initial address has been crossed off and a new one has been written at the top left.  There is NO additional postage.  Both address are in Holloway, a district of London currently part of the borough of Islington (about 3 miles North of Charing Cross).  This would be in the North postal district according the Kelly's map above - and the initial address does read "Holloway (N)."  

But there is no "R" in ring marking - what's with that?

The R in Ring Marking

from Mackay's "Postmarks of England and Wales" (1988)

Julian Jones was kind enough to provide help, giving me a reasonable summary and this quote from a book by James Mackay (pages 281-282).

"Letters from the 1840s onwards, redirected in the same delivery area as the original address and therefore not subject to any further charge, were marked with small circular stamps surmounted by a crown and having the letter 'R' in the centre.  These stamps varied considerably in diameter, the style of the letter and the shape of the crown.  Ten identical stamps (5290 shown above) were issued to the London district offices on 5th April 1859."

First, you might notice that my example of the marking does not clearly show the "crown" at the top of the circle, so it makes sense that I would initially think of it as a ring.  It's a first impressions thing - I have a hard time now thinking of it as anything else.

These were an inspector/examiner marking used for redirecting post within a local area of London.  The application of this marking indicated that the item was NOT subject to additional postage for the redirection to a new address.  These R in Ring markings are known in both red and black inks.

This, of course, now begs the question as to why the second cover does not exhibit such a marking.  I suppose, it is possible that the carrier learned of the new address while on the route and simply took it there without coming back to the post office.  That might explain the absence of an additional marking.  Or, perhaps the Holloway post office in London wasn't given a marking device.  We'll just call these "things to contemplate for the future" should the opportunity to learn more present itself!

Bonus Material!

There are a few additional points of interest that come along for the ride with this Postal History Sunday!

1. The Cimbria was a new ship

The sailing from New York to Southampton on May 4th, 1867 was the return leg of the Cimbria's maiden voyage.  This steamship had left Hamburg for the Hamburg-American Line (HAPAG) on April 13 and successfully delivered passengers and mail. 

This was also a point of interest to me early on because this was also one of the "little differences" in a postal history item that provided me with more interest - even if it was "only a common use" from the US to the UK.  

The Cimbria would serve well until 1883, when tragedy struck. The steamship collided with a British vessel by the name of the Sultan (Hull & Hamburg Line) not far from Borkum Island, after which the damaged Sultan "drifted off into the fog" despite screams and calls for help from the Cimbria.  The current HAPAG-Lloyd site includes a summary of the event.

The Cimbria sank rapidly, taking 389 lives with her and only 133 were saved on seven lifeboats that were successfully launched.  More information can be found at the Wreck Site, which includes the following unattributed newspaper clipping.

And, if you want even more information about the ship itself, one of the best resources is North Atlantic Seaway by N.R.P.Bonsor, for specific information on Cimbria go to vol.1,p.389

2. Not THAT Benjamin Rush, but related

If you are familiar with Revolutionary War period history, you might perk up at the name Benjamin Rush, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence.  Well, this is his grandson, who was a writer and a lawyer.  

Of particular interest is this item, that is titled "William B. Reed, of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia.  Expert in the art of exhumation of the dead."  Yes - that is quite the title - is it not?

Of particular interest is that this publication was being sent to the United States on a steamship DEPARTING the UK on May 4th, 1867.... the same date the Cimbria set off from New York, carrying our featured letter to Mary Rush.  These two things must have passed each other on the Atlantic Ocean.

In about fifteen pages of text, Rush takes on William B Reed, who apparently had taken it upon himself to sully the name of Rush's grandfather and namesake.  A small segment of Rush's writing is below, from the site listed above.

3. Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

You might recognize the name of Leavenworth for the federal prison that was built in the 20th century.  but, in the 1860s, Fort Leavenworth was actually a key training point for Union soldiers in an effort to hold an area that actually had strong feelings for the Confederacy.  

This 1867 photo by Alexander Gardner can be found at this location and one brief history can be found at the site that hosts the photo found above.  A contemporary event at Leavenworth would be the court martial of General Custer in August of 1867.

For good measure, here is another contemporary photo from the Library of Congress.  Why not?  Let's do this thing right.

------------------------

Thank you again for your interest in Postal History Sunday.  I hope you enjoyed today's entry and that you learned something new.  I know I did!

Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come!

More Sneaky Clues - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to Postal History Sunday (issue #77), which is hosted each Sunday on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  For those who are curious, I put the number on here this time because I had someone ask how many entries I have written thus far.  It's a good healthy number and I am pleased to have gotten this far with the project.

Now, let's pack all of those troubles into an envelope and mail it to some unknown address.  Make sure you don't put your return address on the envelope in hopes that they never come back.  Put on the fuzzy slippers and get a favorite beverage - it's time for some postal history!

----------------------

Last Summer, one of our entries was titled Sneaky Clues, which featured hand-written markings that helped to tell the story of various pieces of postal history.   I had so much fun with that one, I thought I'd do it again!

This time, we're going to start with a letter that was sent from Newport, Rhode Island to Paris, France in 1866.  Can you guess what "sneaky clue" I am going to focus on for this item?

Actually, this time around, I wanted to show how well ALL of the pieces of the story being told by this envelope work together. 

The red "45" at the bottom left is equivalent to the amount of postage found on this envelope: one 24-cent stamp, two 10-cent stamps and one 1-cent stamp = 45 cents total.

The postage rate for letter mail from the United States to France at the time was 15 cents per 1/4 ounce of weight (effective April 1857-Dec 1869).  Forty-five is a multiple of fifteen, so that's a good sign.

The numbers in red pencil read "36 / 3" - which is exactly what they should be.  But why?

I took a moment to enhance the red pencil mark and remove some of the distracting marks from the address panel so you can better see what it is that I am referring to.  

The "3" is in reference to the fact that this letter must have weighed more than 1/2 ounce and no more than 3/4 ounce.  In other words, postage needed to be three times the simple letter rate (15 cents).  So, this number confirms the amount of postage AND the "45" marking at the lower left.  So far so good.

But, what is it with the "36"? 

This is where the docket AND the round, red Boston marking come in.  The docket reads "per Cunard Steamer of Wed Dec 5th from Boston."   The red Boston marking is dated December 5 and states that the postage is paid.  It certainly is nice that both of these things agree about when this letter was put on a steamship (the Cunard Line's Africa) - but this is ALSO where the "36" ties in to the whole story.

Of the 45 cents collected in postage by the United States, thirty-six cents were to be passed on to France so they could pay for their expenses AND so they could pass money to the British.  After all, the Cunard Line was under contract with the British Postal Service to carry the mail across the Atlantic.  

In the end, the postage was broken down as follows:

• 9 cents for the United States
• 36 cents went to the French who used it to pay for
• 18 cents to the British for the trip across the Atlantic
• 6 cents to cover the British surface mail and transit across the English Channel
• 12 cents kept by the French to pay for their own postal expenses.
  

If the ship crossing the Atlantic had been for a shipping line that had a contract with the United States or France, these numbers would be different, and so would the red pencil markings.

And that's how it all ties together.  Why is this interesting or important to a postal historian?

What would happen if we had a letter that did not have a docket, did not have the red "45" and the red Boston marking was smeared?  If there was only a "36/3" clearly written in pencil and 45 cents in postage on the envelope, we could still be able to piece most of the story together because we've seen items (like this one) where all of the pieces are completely and clearly spelled out.  That's part of the reason why I have worked to become more conversant in "sneaky clues."  Sometimes, not everything will be as easily read as they are on our first example.

Here is an 1856 folded letter that was sent from Nancy, Franc to Paris.  There is a 20 centime stamp at the top right and the red box at the top left reads "affranchissement insuffisant" (insufficient postage).

As a public service, I now give you a table that shows the internal letter rates for France during the second half of the 1800s.  I highlighted the text of the row that applies to this letter.

Prepaid Internal Letter Rates for France

Date	1st Rate	up to	2nd Rate	up to	3rd Rate	up to	Additional	Per
Jan 1, 1849	0,20	7.5g	0,40	15g	1,00	100g	1,00	100g
Jul 1, 1850	0,25	7.5g	0,50	15g	1,00	100g	1,00	100g
Jul 1, 1854	0,20	7.5g	0,40	15g	0,80	100g	0,80	100g
Jan 1, 1862	0,20	10g	0,40	20g	0,80	100g	0,80	100g
Sep 1, 1871	0,25	10g	0,40	20g	0,70	50g	0,50	50g
Jan 1, 1876	0,25	15g	0,50	30g	0,75	50g	0,50	50g
May 1, 1878	0,15	15g	-	-	-	-	0,15	15g

A simple letter would weigh no more than 7.5 grams and would cost 20 centimes.  Apparently, the person who mailed this felt the letter was not too heavy and paid the cost for a simple letter.  The French postal clerk, on the other hand, did not agree - and they gave us evidence of that fact.

Well, well.  It looks the writer exceeded the weight limit by one-half gram (the marking above reads "8 g" or 8 grams).

For reference, 1/2 gram is the weight of half of a typical business card or half of a raisin.  It's not much.  But, rules IS rules - and this letter simply weighed too much.  Which means the amount of postage paid should have been 40 centimes.

At that time, the regulations for short paid mail in France required the recipient to pay the full amount of postage AS IF nothing had been paid at all.  In other words, the postage stamp paid for none of the postage required to send this item.  Think of it as a donation to the French Post Office if that helps your understanding.  

It may not seem fair that no credit was given for the postage provided - but at the time post offices around the world were trying to enforce pre-payment of letters.  Maybe a few harsh economic lessons would be enough to get the point across?

So, the amount due to the recipient was 40 centimes, which is represented by the big squiggle shown in the image at the left.  Yes, that is a "4," which stands for 4 decimes (equal to 40 centimes).  Remember, the French often used decimes for postal accounting, which is the equivalent to Americans referring to 4 dimes instead of 40 cents.

Now, if you are still staring at the squiggle and STILL don't see a "4," I understand.  This just might be one of those times you're just going to have to trust me.

Uh oh!  Here's that Thurn and Taxis post again!  Take a look at this 1865 folded lettersheet mailed from Sonneberg (Thuringia) to Leipzig (in Saxony).  Thuringia was another area, like the Hessian States, that used the house of Thurn and Taxis for their mail services.

The target-like cancellations on the stamps have the number "265" in the center, which was the number assigned to the Sonneberg post office.  The pencil number "265" with an arrow pointing to the purplish marking was put on the cover by a previous collector.  The intent is probably to indicate that they determined that the purple marking was also applied in Sonneberg.

This marking indicates that the letter was sent as a "registered" letter (Recommandirt).  In order to register a letter, an additional 6 kreuzer in postage was required.  And, some of the numbers found on this cover - those at the top right - are numbers used to track the progress of this letter as it traveled to its destination.  The "293" was likely the number in the Sonneberg ledgers that tracked this letter's departure and "205" may well have been Leipzig's ledger number to record the reception of the letter at their office.

So - we have 6 kreuzer spoken for - that leaves us with 12 kreuzer in postage paid.

The rate between Sonneberg and Leipzig was 6 kreuzer per loth.  At the time, mail in the German States included both a distance and a weight variable to determine the postage required.  The distance between the two cities was between 10 and 20 meilen (German miles) - if they had been closer it would only cost 3 kreuzer per loth.

And, there it is!  Our sneaky clue resided at the left, just under the postage stamps.  This scrawl in black pen reads "1 3/20 L," with the "L" standing for loth, the weight unit in use by German postal services at the time.  One loth is roughly equivalent to a half ounce.

So, this letter weighed over one loth and no more than 2 loth, which made it a double weight letter and the total postage needed can be calculated in this fashion:

• Registration Fee 6 kreuzer
• Rate per loth for distance between 10 & 20 meilen - 6 kreuzer x 2 = 12 kreuzer
• Total = 18 kreuzer

Here is another piece of French postal history to consider from 1864.  This item was also sent as a "registered" item (Chargé).  But, that's not what I want to focus on this time around.  

This item was returned to the sender, which would have been the Tribunal Court in Chambery.  The contents are a court summons that apparently did not find the person they were "summoning!"

But, how did I know this was returned to the sender?

The sneaky clue is at the bottom right, just under the Chambery postmark.  The words "au dos," when placed on a piece of letter mail explains that the carrier or clerk should "look on the back" for more explanation.  So, I looked on the back - and this is what I found:

The word "Inconnu," which would translate to "unknown."  The post office in Chambery was unable to locate the recipient of this court summons and they simply returned it to the Tribunal.  

Well, if the postal service can't find you, I guess you don't need to go to court.

Let's close with this 1867 envelope that was sent from New Orleans, Louisiana to Kurnik, Prussia (now in Poland).  The postage applied is 28 cents, which is the correct postage for a simple letter sent to Prussia (not weighing more than 1/2 ounce).  The New Orleans, New York and Aachen markings clearly show the travels this letter took and the dates it visited each location.  A single marking on the back tells us it arrived at the destination post office on April 15.

But, what is all of this?  The use of blue and red pencil might be an indication that there might be some postal significance - but what?

I have to admit that I have been puzzled by these markings for some time.  The numbers "15" and "4" really don't connect to any postal rate calculations that I could determine.  And, there was no reason (and no way) for this item to have traveled through Orleans, France.... unless that is not the word "Orleans" written in blue.

So, this particular set of markings sat in my "to be solved" list for a long time.  Until, one day, I asked the right people and got an answer that makes perfect sense.

This is a docket written by the recipient, simply recording that the letter was received on the 15th of April (4th month) from Orleans (New Orleans).  The little red squiggle before the numbers was simply an abbreviation to indicate a received date, which matches the date of the postal arrival date on the back.

Sometimes the answer is so simple that it is almost embarrassing to admit it to others.  In this case, I think I can hide behind the fact that most Americans list dates in month/day order rather than day/month order.  That's about the only defense I have right now - but I do feel much better now that the mystery is not so much of a mystery any more.

-------------------------------------

An Answer to a Question

I received the following question from an individual who has read a few Postal History Sunday entries and I thought it was worth repeating it and my answer here as a bonus for today.

Q: What is it that attracts you to the postal history you share on Postal History Sunday?  How do you pick the items you feature?

A: The answer can actually get very long and I probably cover it on and off in various Postal History Sunday offerings.  But, this one, titled Favorites, probably sums it up pretty well if you are willing to go read it.

If you aren't willing I can sum it up this way.  I like learning new things.  I like puzzles.  I like history.  I like the artistry found in the stamps, the handwriting and the papers of the time.  And... I like to try to figure out complicated things in history and then try to find the right words to make it easier for someone else to understand the same things I do. 

As far as how I pick the items I feature - every item I show is in (or was once in) my own collection unless I clearly state otherwise under the image.  I like to focus the most on the mid-1800s and I tend to have more connections to the US and European mails.  This might be enough to explain why you see so much of some things and less of others.  We all have our limits, and I have a long, long way to go to conquer every area covered by postal history.

Thanks for joining me this week.  Have a great remainder of the weekend and a fine week to come!