Friends in Need - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the 93nd entry of Postal History Sunday, featured weekly on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with this one (the most recent always shows up at the top).  

This week, in honor of Memorial Day in the United States, I'm going to be presumptuous and tell you to push your own personal troubles out of the way so you can ponder what it means for individuals to serve in the military for their country (it does not matter which country) or for people to be injured, displaced, and terrorized by war.

But, even as we ponder, I hope we can also learn something new and still enjoy as we explore the postal history hobby.  And, if these words sound familiar, maybe you recall some of last year's post titled Unforgotten.  That post received some excellent feedback and may well be worth another read if you feel like it.

This week I am going to leave the time period with which I have the most comfort and look at something a bit more modern.   Yes, I know, World War I might not be considered to be all that recent by many people, but it is about a half century later than most postal history I study.

Before I get too far into the postal history part of this item, can you see why I was attracted to this particular cover in the first place?  Yes, it is a clean enough.  And, yes, it is a piece of mail between two countries (the US and England).  Also, as we shall see, this letter illustrates a proper postal use of the time (1916).  

In my mind, these are all good things if I am considering an item.  Yet it was the address panel that caught my attention.

"Mr. J.R. Little, Friends Ambulance Unit, 8 Weymouth St. London W, England"

I must admit that, while I was aware of the ambulance units run by the Quakers in World War II, I was not aware of their involvement in the first world war.  The gap in my knowledge makes some sense since WW II has received more historical coverage in the US given their extensive involvement as compared to the first conflict.  And, even if you weren't aware of these ambulance units, you may recognize the movie, Hacksaw Ridge, that followed the story of an American conscientious objector who served heroically as a medic in the second war.

The Postal History Part

The post marks on this particular cover tell the story in a clear fashion.  A boxed marking on the front was placed over the postage stamp (so it could not easily be re-used) that reads New Rockford, N. Dakota.  And the markings on the back are as follows:

• New Rockford N. Dak Registered Jun 7, 1916
• New York Rec'd For'cn Jun 10, 1916
• Liverpool June 19, 1916

The postage stamp has a 12 cent denomination and depicts Benjamin Franklin.  You can see, if you look closely that the stamp itself is actually partially covered by some paper tape on the right.  And, if you look even more closely (click on the image to see a bigger version), you might notice in pencil the numbers "138" have been written on the stamp itself.  I will make an educated guess that there just might be a "6" after the "8," but it is under the tape.

What's the "138" thing about?

The numbers in pencil on the stamp aren't something I have noticed before, so maybe someone else who knows more about this period of time and postal history can help.  However, I can do a little sleuthing and point you towards THIS part of the envelope.  It explains my reason for thinking there is also a penciled in "6."

Registered mail of the time from the US to the United Kingdom had a few characteristics that we can spot on this particular envelope.  First, some sort of "registered" marking or label is placed on the front.  A tracking number, or ledger number, is included with the marking.  I do not think it is coincidence that the three numbers visible on the stamp match up with the first three numbers here.

The next couple of pieces of evidence to show that this was a registered piece of mail include the blue cross marking applied with a pencil on the front.  This alerted the British postal service that this item was registered and extra security/tracking was to be provided.  And, all of the dated postmarks appear on the reverse of this envelope, all carefully placed so they overlap the flap - with the idea that it would show that the contents had NOT been tampered with.

But, was this mail "tampered" with anyway?

I find it interesting that some of the processes for registered mail was supposed to provide evidence that the contents had not been disturbed or taken.  However, the paper tape was neatly adhered to the right side of this envelope simply because it HAD been purposely opened and inspected.

This is one way we are reminded that there was a war on.  While it would be almost a full year before the United States entered that conflict, the United Kingdom was certainly very much involved.  As a result, incoming mail was inspected with the intent of checking for contents or information that could either serve the war effort or, perhaps, harm that same effort if it were allowed to be received unaltered.

Once the item was passed by a censor, tape was applied to reseal the envelope.  A censor number "1521" was included on the front side to provide some accountability for the process.

If you would like to learn more about censorship during World War I, I suggest this online article provided by the International Encyclopedia of the First World War.  The following was taken from that site on May 28, 2022:

"In the Allied countries, postal control was also extended to correspondence between civilians. In Britain, all mail was controlled in special censorship offices either in London or in Liverpool, and in 1918 between 4,000 and 5,000 persons were occupied with this... As the blockade authorities controlled all ships, censors opened all letters and parcels between neutral countries as well. As a result, they closely surveyed the correspondence of German agents and even replaced German propaganda with their own."

Needless to say this slowed the arrival of mail, but the absence of a receiving marking in London means this letter will provide us with no evidence as to how much it was delayed.  The Liverpool marking tells us when the letter left the steamship and arrived at the exchange office there.  Based on the description above, it isn't hard to imagine that this was processed by the censors there rather than those in London.

How much did this cost in postage?

Registry mail services cost 10 cents, effective Apr 1, 1879 to Nov 30, 1925, which was paid by the postage stamp.  This leaves us with 2 cents for postage.  But the postage rate for letter mail to other countries was 5 cents for the first ounce of weight (Oct 1, 1907 - Oct 31, 1953).  That certainly doesn't seem to add up now, does it?

Well, maybe this will help.  Here is another letter that was sent in May of 1916 from Utica, New York to Huddersfield in England.  This letter only bears a 2 cent stamp and it is not a registered letter.

It turns out that the United States made some special agreements that provided discounted rates with certain nations, and the United Kingdom was one of those nations.  In essence, the United States domestic rates applied to mail being sent to the United Kingdom beginning Oct 1 ,1908.  This rate was increased to 3 cents on Nov 2, 1917 to help fund the American war effort after they joined the fray.

Mexico and Canada also enjoyed these postal rate discounts from the normal Universal Postal Union rates.  Shown above is a 1918 letter where the 3 cent "war rate" was required.  This envelope was featured in one of the earlier Postal History Sundays and can be found here.

The Social History Part

I started the process by doing some reading on the Friends Ambulance Unit just to get a feel for what I was getting into and found this overview to be worthwhile on the Quakers in the World site.  Rather that try and craft a summary, I took excerpts from the first few paragraphs to give us all a feel for what the Friends Ambulance Unit was in WW I.

"Philip (Noel) Baker appealed for volunteers [and] Early in September the first training camp took place at Jordans, in Buckinghamshire, for about 60 young men. Initially neither the British Red Cross nor the army wanted to involve a group of independent and pacifist volunteers, but the situation changed dramatically when the Belgian army collapsed in late October. The FAU was provided with equipment and supplies, and a party of 43...left for Belgium.

A few miles out they met a torpedoed and sinking cruiser, rescued the victims, and carried them back to Dover.  Setting out again, they came to Dunkirk, and worked for three weeks in the military evacuation sheds, looking after several thousand wounded soldiers until they could be evacuated on hospital ships.  The Unit set up their administrative headquarters nearby, at Malo les Bains. There was a terrible typhoid epidemic that winter, and this led to the establishment of the first of four hospitals, the Queen Alexandra, at Dunkirk.

The FAU expanded as the needs grew, and many non-Quakers joined.  There were two sections:  the Foreign Service and the Home Service... the Foreign Service started on a programme of civilian relief [and] were soon noticed by the French army medical headquarters, and this led to the staffing and running of French ambulance convoys (Sections Sanitaires Anglaises)... In 1915, they started running ambulance trains, and in early 1916 they had two hospital ships.

The Home Service set up and/or helped to run four hospitals in England. Two were in Quaker premises – one in part of the Rowntree factory in York, and the other in a Cadbury house in Birmingham; the other two were in London."

In summary, this was no small operation.

Looking for J.R. Little

It turns out that the Library of the Religious Society of Friends in the UK maintains a site where significant primary resources can be accessed.  It did not take long using the tools they provided to find these cards for J.R. Little.

Little has an index card with a photo, but the contents are a bit less detailed than many.  The reverse of this card provided some additional detail.

James Raymond Little was a member of the initial group that met at Jordans Camp, undergoing - or somehow involved - in the original training for the Friends Ambulance Unit (FAU).  The entry for October 30 places him at the "L Office" (London Office).  He would visit Dunkirk for a few days in July of 1915, soon returning to London.  He remained with the FAU until 1919, after the war had concluded.

I eventually found this contemporary history (another edition or copy can be found here) of the FAU during the First World War, which gave me the answer I sought - what was J.R. Little's role?

It is here on page 238 that we find our answer.  J.R. Little, and apparently his spouse, were the constant force that kept the organizational side of the FAU ...um... organized.  If we were hoping for some glamour with this particular piece of postal history, we may not have found it in the direct sense.  But we should have known this would be the case simply by the immaculate condition of the envelope.  If Little had been working near the conflict, it is doubtful that this envelope would be quite so pristine.  

However, let's not belittle the efforts of the recipient of this piece of mail.  Little had sufficient respect for his role that he not only merited mention in the book specifically for efforts at the London Office, but they also provided a plate in the book with his photograph.

And, if further evidence were needed that J.R. Little was among those involved in the FAU from its very beginning, he is among those list in the "Committee of the Friends Ambulance Unit" shown below from the text cited earlier. 

Once again, let me point out that the FAU was not a small undertaking, with the management of several hospitals, ambulance convoys, ambulance trains and hospital ships.  Simply acquiring the needed supplies and getting them to where they needed to be would have been a difficult task.

And remember - the FAU was a voluntary organization.  Its members were not paid, so there was significant turnover as individuals found they could no longer continue to serve as a volunteer.

FAU - Not Safe from Harm

Not all members of the Quaker Friends were in agreement as to the role they should play during periods of armed conflict.  An excellent article by Linda Palfreeman actually explores the debate and differing opinions of the time.  Many felt the Friends Ambulance Unit was in direct opposition the religious tenets that are held by Quakers.  Nonetheless, a significant number of conscientious objectors, not all of whom were British and some who were not Quakers, were involved in providing medical relief to those in need due to armed conflict.

Efforts to provide medical help often put ambulance drivers and personnel in the line of fire and they were not immune to the various illnesses that were prone to be found in less than optimal living conditions. 

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

Thank you once again for joining me as I share something I enjoy.  I hope you learned something new in the process.  

Take a moment or two this weekend and remember those who have witnessed the horrors of war firsthand, whether they were members of armed forces, civilians, or those who chose to do what they could to provide relief to those were sick or injured.

How Do You Rate? - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the 92nd entry of Postal History Sunday, featured weekly on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog. Yes, I will readily admit that I am counting down to number 100.  It's just a silly thing humans do sometimes. If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with this one (the most recent always shows up at the top).  

This week's Postal History Sunday was inspired by a question regarding postal rates that fall earlier in the 1800s than most of the material I have shown over the past couple of years in these posts (thank you Winston!).   I have been slowly making some headway on that area, but this might push me to look a little more diligently!  However, the question itself reminded me that even for my area of concentration (1850s - 1870s) finding the proper postage rates for a given piece of postal history can be a trial.  The great news is that there are works by others that can make hunting up these rates easier - sometimes it's just a matter of finding them.

In any event, some of this might be review for some, new for others - or maybe dull and unexciting to many.  But, stick with me, I suspect I can provide a little bit of interest so that most of you will, at the least, be tolerant of this week's ramblings!

United States

Here is a folded letter that was sent from the United States to Antwerp (Anvers), Belgium.  The postage rate at the time of mailing was 27 cents, and there are two postage stamps - one with a 3 cent denomination and the other with a 24 cent denomination.  

We get a little help with the origin of this letter since there is this nice preprinted corner card at the top of the lettersheet.  The letter is dated September 26, 1865 and also identifies the origin as New York.

About the resource for foreign letter mail 1847 to 1875:

I've mentioned this particular work once before in the PHS entry titled On the Shoulders of Others.  The 1990 edition of the work by Charles Starnes (United States Letter Rates to Foreign Destinations 1847 to GPU-UPU) has been the postal rate reference book that has been in my library the longest.  This is where I am easily able to determine that the 27 cents per 1/2 ounce rate for letter mail from the US to Belgium was applicable from January of 1860 through December of 1867.  This is good news because this letter illustrates the rate perfectly.

A neat thing about this piece of letter mail

I wanted to keep this blog from just being a list of resources and have a little fun while I wrote it.  So, I figured I could take a moment and point out something I like about each cover I use to illustrate a resource.

In this case, the neat thing is this marking that is on the back of the folded letter.  This is a postmark that was applied in Antwerp (Anvers) and it shows a date of Oct 10, 1865.  The "8M" would be a time of day marking.  This postmark serves an exchange marking and it records the point in time the letter was removed from the mailbag that it had resided in since its departure from the New York foreign mail office. 

Why is this a big deal?  After all, most of the letters during this period between the US and Belgium will have these exchange markings.  And, according to the postal treaty these two nations signed, the Belgian exchange offices were to be Ostende, the traveling post office on the railway from Ostende, and Antwerp.  So, this should be perfectly normal, right?

Right!  But it has been very rare for me to see anything other than one of the two Ostende markings on mail during this period from the US.  It appears that the Anvers exchange office only processed mail from the US that was to Antwerp and perhaps the immediate surrounding area.  The rest of Belgium's mail was processed by the other two offices.  However, I have seen other similar letters to Antwerp and those show Ostende markings too.  So, this one seems to be an exception.

Well, ok.  I think it's neat.  You certainly don't have to.

If you are interested in letter mail from the United States to foreign destinations after 1875, here is a an example of an item that was mailed from Wellesley, Massachusettes on April 16, 1911 to Paris, France (initially).  The neat thing about this piece of mail is the American Express Company label that was placed over the original address.  American travelers could use this company's financial services and avail themselves of their mail forwarding services as well.  

The good news for American Express is that mail forwarding did not require additional postage in 1911, so it just took a little staff time to re-address each letter.  It doesn't seem like a stretch to conclude that most mail would be forwarded from one American Express branch to another, so they had labels created that could be easily affixed over the old address.  If you will recall, redirected mail can get pretty messy with all of the corrections to the address.  The label makes it less likely that the postal service will have to struggle to figure out where the letter is supposed to go.

Ah, but we should get back to the topic at hand! The foreign rate for a simple letter from the United States to another country was 5 cents as long as the weight did not exceed 20 grams in weight.  This rate was effective beginning Oct 1, 1907 and ended on Oct 31, 1953 - a very lengthy period of time without a rate change.

About the resource for foreign mail after 1875:

The fine work by Henry Beecher and Tony Wawrukiewicz titled U.S. International Postage Rates: 1872 - 1996 is the reference most postal historians go to in order to look up a rate for all sorts of mail.  This includes rates for special services, such as registration and insurance, or special rates for printed matter (among many other things).  Beecher and Wawrukiewicz are also responsible for a fine book covering domestic (internal) postage rates from the 1870s to (almost) the present day.

Are you interested in earlier US postal rates?

This document comes from the PhilaMercury site (Richard Frajola) and was created by Steve Walske.  It provides a simplified set of rates for internal letter mail.  The vast majority of postal artifacts that were mailed within the US to a US destination will fit these rates, so this is an excellent quick reference.  You can click on the image to view a larger version of this file.

And, if you want to get further into the weeds, there are more resources on this page of the PhilaMercury site.

France Postage Rates 1848-1916

This time let's take a look at a folded letter sent from Lyon, France to Geneva, Switzerland in 1871.  The postage rate at the time was 30 centimes per 10 grams, which was effective from October 1, 1865 to December 31, 1875 - just over ten years.

About the resources

Jean-Louis Bourgouin has been kind enough to share the myriad of French postal rates for this period on the internet as a resource.  Les Tarifs Postaux Francais Entre 1848 et 1916 has become a valuable reference to me as I explore French postal history to foreign destinations.  Yes, it is written in French, but that is a minimal discomfort considering the numerous free tools that exist to help with translation.

I was first introduced to French postage rates through Derek Richardson's Tables of French Postal Rates 1849 to 2011.  This book is readily available if you want to dig through places like Abebooks or the Philatelic Bibliopole.  Prior editions  simply add more recent rates, so if you're just looking for the older rates, the earlier editions will likely suit you well enough.  But, what you will not find with the Richardson book are all of the rates for mail leaving France for other countries PRIOR to 1875.  And since that's what I like to concentrate on, you now know why I am so appreciative of Bourgouin's work. But don't let that make you think I don't appreciate the Richardson work as well.  Anyone who is willing to wade through all of the primary source materials to put together a reference is worthy of respect in my book.

If someone has a suggestion for a research to share on French postal rates prior to 1848, please send me a note!

One neat thing

Take a moment and look closely at the 30 centime stamp on this cover.  You might notice that there are no perforations on that postage stamp, which would have been commonplace by 1871.  I actually addressed this situation in a prior PHS titled Finding A Hook.  Rather than create the wheel all over again, I'll just pull the explanation that was there for another cover that had a similar characteristic.

"[T]his [stamp] is a depiction of Ceres, a very non-political figure intended to symbolize prosperity.  As Paris was being surrounded in September of 1870, the rest of France was cut off from the supply of postage stamps printed there.  To make the story shorter, stamps based on the first French postage stamp design were printed in Bordeaux (southwest France).  Hence this issue of postage stamps is often referred to as the Bordeaux Issue (we can be so clever, can't we?).  These stamps were printed using lithography rather than the finer engraved printings of the earlier issues."

This stamp was printed as an emergency measure so the rest of the country could have them for their mail.  Certain shortcuts were required - like not bothering to put the perforations on the stamps that made separating them easy to do with out a scissors of knife.  

Ah, the things we have to do during times of crisis!  Separating postage stamps with a sharp instrument was one of them in early 1871.

As you can guess, there are many more resources for rates for many other countries out there.  So, this topic will be revisited in the future.  Because this type of Postal History Sunday is not for everyone, I'll sprinkle them in amongst others that feature shipwrecks, or balloons, or even a little fertilizer!  

Now, getting back to the "countdown" to 100.

Celebrating the Journey to 100

There are 3 ways you can participate (feel free to participate in more than one way if you wish):

1. Ask Rob a question that he can attempt to answer.
2. Send Rob a scan of a favorite postal history item and a couple of sentences about WHY this is a favorite item.
   
3. Request that Rob write on a particular postal history topic. 

But, there might be a 4th way you can participate!

    Send me a suggestion for a resource that can help others figure out postal rates that I can feature in future posts!

I will feature these questions, favorite items and/or topics in future Postal History Sundays.  If you do not want me to share your name with your input, please tell me to omit that information if I choose to use your suggestion, question, or favorite item.

Questions and topic suggestions can come from people with any level of postal history knowledge. Similarly, if you choose to share a favorite item, it need not be old or super rare or really expensive.  It just needs to be a favorite item that is a piece of postal history.  Your reason for making it a favorite is enough!

Send those questions and suggestions to me at genuinefauxfarm@gmail.com and we'll see if we can't build a Postal History Sunday or two based on them! Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come.

Duck, Duck, Goose - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the 91st entry of Postal History Sunday, featured weekly on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with this one (the most recent always shows up at the top).  

For those of you who do not live in Iowa, someone must have hit the "reboot" button for the change of the seasons one too many times and we went straight from late Winter / early Spring to Summer in one 24 hour period.  After that jolt, temps are supposed to be more like a normal May for the coming week - but we shall see.  All of the trees, bushes and perennial plants around here have all decided that NOW is the time - regardless of what future weather will bring.

Now I will place my farmer's concern for upcoming weather to the side and I invite you to grind up your own troubles into a fine powder, just as I hope to do.  Then, we can use it as fertilizer for all of those plants we want to grow green and flower.  In the meantime, let's explore a little postal history -something I enjoy - and maybe we'll all learn something new!

Getting to Know the Regular Ducks

Many of us might recall the game called Duck, Duck, Goose (or Duck, Duck, Grey Duck if you live in Minnesota).  This game was often a feature in elementary schools in the United States (I am sure there are varieties elsewhere) where kids sit in a circle on the ground.  One participant walks around the circle, touching each person in turn - naming each person a "duck" until they opt to call someone a goose (or grey duck). At that point, the newly anointed goose/grey duck chases the namer around the circle...

Ok, that's enough of that.  The point I am making is that the goose / grey duck is different than the ducks.  I like to think of the simple letter as the "duck" of postal history.  The vast majority of surviving postal artifacts are, in fact, simple letters.  Like this one:

 

Other than the junk mail most of us are quite familiar with, we might have the most familiarity with letter mail.  Junk mail is typically referenced by postal historians as printed matter or reduced rate mail.  Unsurprisingly, that sort of mail is harder for a postal historian to find because...well... it is often considered to be "junk" and is thrown away.  Letter mail, on the other hand, is more likely to be personal in nature - whether it serves as a business record or part of a personal correspondence.  That makes the chances that a postal historian might encounter old letter mail pieces is much higher.

A simple letter is the most common sort of letter mail.  To put it - simply - a simple letter requires a single rate of postage for that letter to travel from its point of origin to its destination.  This typically means the weight of the letter is below a certain limit (or the number of sheets in the letter does not exceed a certain number).

Shown above is an example of a simple letter that traveled in the mails internal to the Italian state of Modena.  The postmark at top right tells us it entered the mail at Modena (the city) on Apr 1, 1853 and was sent to Guastalla, about 56 km to the northwest.  The back has a marking from Guastalla that shows it was received at the post office there on the same day.

The postage stamp is has a 5 centesimi value, which was the correct postage for a simple letter in Modena that traveled no more than 10 meilen (75 km).  Letters qualified as a simple letter if they weighed no more than 8.75 grams.  This postage rate became effective on Sep 4, 1852 and remained in effect until mid-1859, when Modena was going through the process of unifying with Sardinia and other Italian states to create the Kingdom of Italy.

There were actually destinations within Modena that were further apart than 10 meilen (75 km).  A simple letter that traveled these greater distances had a higher postage rate - 10 centesimi per 8.75 grams.  

Above is a letter that was sent from Massa-Carrara on April 10, 1854 to the city of Modena, arriving there two days later according to the postmark on the back.  Massa-Carrara was located near the shores of the Mediterranean and was about as far away from the city of Modena as you could get (about 150 km) and still be in the Duchy of Modena.

You will find Modena is the purple region just above Tuscany (which is in bright yellow).  You may click on the map image to see a larger version if you would like.

These two items would be the "regular ducks" a person might find to represent simple mail internal to Modena for most of the 1850s.  I find it very useful to identify the "ducks" in a new postal history subject area so I can learn what would be considered normal, or common, characteristics for mail of the time.  That way I have a chance to be ready for any "goose" that might come along - whether it is something uncommon or something that has been altered and is not what it seems to be.

Modanese "Ducks" for the Italo-Austrian League

You might recall that I wrote about the Italo-Austrian League just last month.   Austria, along with the Italian states of Tuscany, Parma, Modena, Lombardy, Venetia, and the Papal State agreed to regulations for mail exchange between all participants.  So, from Modena's perspective, their postage rates for mail sent to any of the other participating states was the same.  This was not something that could have been said prior to the establishment of the league.

Here is a letter that was sent from the city of Modena in 1855 to Bologna, a city that was then in the Papal States.  The distance between the two locations was only 43 km, so it would qualify as the shortest distance category for letter mail in the Italo-Austrian League.  The cost in Modena for just such a letter was 15 centesimi for a letter weighing no more than 17.5 grams.

Below is a table that summarizes how postage was calculated for each of the participating postal systems.  This is the same table that was presented in the April Postal History Sunday that covered the Austro-Italian League.

Letter Rates to Oct 31, 1858

League member	< =10 meilen	>10 and <=20	>20
Austria	3 kreuzer	6 kr	9 rk
Lombardy-Venetia	15 centesimi	30 ctsm	45 ctsm
Modena	15 centesimi	25 ctsm	40 ctsm
Papal States	2 bajocchi	5 baj	8 baj
Parma	15 centesimi	25 ctsm	40 ctsm
Tuscany	2 crazie	4 cr	6 cr

That means there are two other types of "ducks" as far as Modena and the Italo-Austrian League is concerned.  One for each distance shown in the table above.

Well, here's one! 

This particular piece of mail bears a 25 centesimi postage stamp at the top right and a postmark in Modena dated June 17, 1856 and received in Brescia one day later according to the postmark on the back.  The distance between Modena and Brescia is right around 150 km, which would be around 20 meilen.  Apparently, the postal tables of the time listed the distance as falling within the second distance (10 to 20 meilen).

Brescia was in Lombardy, which was part of the Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia at the time this letter was received.

And our last "duck" for this series is shown above, a letter from Modena to Gandino in the Province of Bergamo (which was in Lombardy).  Gandino is further north than Brescia, so it makes sense that this letter had to travel further than the last one, exceeding 20 meilen, qualifying it for the longest distance and the higher 40 centesimi rate.

This folded letter is dated October 17, 1855 and the weak postmark on the front of the cover looks like it could either be Oct 17 or Oct 18.  Happily, the receiving postmark on the back is much easier to read.

The letter arrived at the post office in Gandino on October 20, two or three days later.  It would be tempting to say the postmark on the front was Oct 18, just to keep the delivery time to two days - but there might be a reason that this letter was slower to get to its destination.

Here is the region of Lombardy where both Brescia and Gandino are located.  You can easily find Brescia, which the destination of the 25 ct letter.  Gandino is located northeast of Bergamo.

Clearly, Bergamo and Brescia are larger cities and both show that a rail line runs through them on this map from 1879.  Now, granted, the letters we are looking at are from the 1850s, but primary routes would have been the same, even if they did not have rail service.

Gandino was smaller.  Gandino was not part of a major travel route.

Is this a Goose?

Is it possible that our last duck is actually a "goose" in disguise?  I suppose it depends on what sort of differences you are looking for.  If you are looking for an interesting oddity with respect to the postal regulations of the time, this letter is a fine "duck."  It is a clear and simple illustration of the 40 centesimi simple letter rate for an item that traveled over 20 meilen to get to its destination.

However, every letter we have shown in this Postal History Sunday was between larger towns or cities of the time.  If you look at more modern maps, you might come to the conclusion that Guastalla (our first letter) is a smaller community, but its growth was stymied once decisions were made to go through Gonzaga, rather than Guastalla for the railroad.  In the 1850s, it actually WAS a larger settlement in Modena.

But, Gandino is located in the Alps and, at the time, it was the end of the line.  There was no railroad to get there in 1879 and there likely wasn't much for continued traffic beyond that settlement.  Even today, the population of Gandino is listed at around 5000 people, though the tourism industry probably results in a wildly fluctuating number of humans in the area depending on the season.

This simply illustrates a truth for letter mail of the time.  Most surviving mail in collectors' hands will be to or from the larger cities and towns.  This is especially true for mail that traveled longer distances.  But, here we have an item that traveled to an individual in a much less traveled part of the world.  I suppose if you are looking for evidence of more rural mail services, this could be a "goose" of a sort, but I think I'll still call it a "duck" for now.

Unanswered Questions

There are a number of questions that come to mind that are still looking for answers.  I thought I would share some of them - and maybe you would share some leads with me if you have them!

1. Who was Marco Ghirardelli?

Our last letter is addressed to Marco Ghirardelli in Gandino.  If you are wondering why the last name is familiar to you, you might be thinking about the chocolate company in San Francisco.  However, I am fairly certain THIS Ghirardelli is not directly linked to that particular family.

 Here is a portion of a current map of Gandino, clipped from Google maps.  Note the names of the streets:

Giuseppe Garibaldi, Guiseppe Mazzini, and....  Marco Ghirardelli.

The first two are well know Italian nationalists who had much to do with the process that led to Italy's unification.  Is it a coincidence that Marco Ghirardelli's name is also honored in this area of Gandino?  Was Marco Ghirardelli the local hero of the unification movement?

I don't know.  And, I ran out of time and patience as I began to explore for an answer.  I'd be happy if someone could point me in the correct direction.

2. What is that black boxed marking?

Sometimes you just have to see another example of a marking to be able to read the one that is front of you.  I have not yet been able to decipher the marking in black.  I admit that part of the issue may be that I am trying to do too many things at once right now and just need to concentrate on one thing for a while.  Still, if someone knows what it says OR can point me to a proper resource, I would appreciate it.

But, perhaps I can reward you with a little bit of the "see how one thing builds off another" here.

Note the words "Via Malcontenti" at the lower left on this envelope.  My initial reaction whenever I see "via" is to think that this is a directional docket that says, get to your destination by going this way.   Things like "via Southampton" or "via Marseille" for example.

Or, note the words "via Brindisi" on the piece of letter mail from the United States to India below.  I know that was a directional docket to route the letter through Brindisi (Italy) on its way to India.

But, if we learned anything from the first question, it's the fact that streets in Italy towns and cities are named in this fashion:  "Via Marco Ghirardelli,"  "Via Giuseppe Garibaldi," and...

"Via Malcontenti"

In other words, it is a street address.

And this is why I always remind myself to be patient when someone from another location on this earth asks me a question that seems simple on its face.  I just have to imagine exactly how exasperated someone who lives and has grown up in Italy might be with me that I did not immediately recognize that this was simply a street address.  It is possible that someone is amused that I do not know who Marco Ghirardelli is too!

Well, I'm not that proud.  I learned something new about street addresses in Italy and I have become curious about a person who appears to have resided in Gandino in the 1850s and had a street named after them.  I don't know about you, but I'll call this a good day.

Thanks for joining me for Postal History Sunday.  Have a good remainder of your day and a great week to come.

What Caught My Eye - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the 90th entry of Postal History Sunday, featured weekly on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with this one (the most recent always shows up at the top).  

Last week I solicited input and/or interaction with those who read PHS - and I did get some.  I would like to thank those who shared kind words with me either in the comments, in social media or via email.  I will also continue to solicit input as we approach the 100th Postal History Sunday.  See the end of the blog for more. 

The weather in Iowa has finally warmed and we actually had a beautiful day where we were able to do some serious work on the farm.  This resulted in me looking at the computer screen at 9 pm on a Saturday wondering what I was going to do for Postal History Sunday. The answer?  Well, I realized that I had a question that was asked by a couple of individuals (in a couple of different ways) that I have kind of answered in the past - but maybe would be worth revisiting.

What grab's my attention and gets me to consider adding a new item to my collection?

I thought I would answer the question this time around by sharing a few examples of some things that I added over the last couple of years and my reasons for doing so - and maybe we'll all learn something new while I'm at it!

Something familiar shown in a different way

The envelope above was mailed in Paris in July of 1867 and traveled to London, England in the hopes that it would find George Blackwell, Esquire.  The contents were most likely a death announcement, which is indicated by the black border on the envelope.  If we look at the back, we can see this border is also visible there as well.

This sort of cover is typically referred to as a mourning cover by postal history collectors.  The extra little bit of color, even if it is just black, often sets covers of this sort apart.  Our eyes get drawn to differences like this, especially if you have been looking at hundreds of envelopes from the 1860s - and you find that any sort of ornamentation or decoration is in the minority.  So you take note when you see it.

But, that's not what interested me in this item.  Yes, I liked the fact that it is pretty clean.  It clearly shows the 40 centime rate for mail from France to the United Kingdom that was in effect at the time.  And, I did appreciate that it was a mourning cover.  I might have passed on adding it, despite all of that, except for the address.

George Blackwell, Esq, Post Office, St Martin's le Grand, London.

Delivery of the mail to a street address or given location had been commonplace in much of Europe for some time at the point this letter was mailed.  Yet here we have something that was simply sent to the post office where it was assumed Mr. Blackwell would come to check for mail.

Again, sending something care of the post office, in the hopes that the recipient would come looking for mail was not terribly uncommon in 1867.  But it is still outside the norm - so I pay attention to such things.  I paid special attention to this one because most of the items mailed to the post office for pickup that I have look more like this one.

This is an envelope mailed from the United States in 1863 to Paris.  It is a double rate letter because the weight of the letter was more than 1/4 ounce and no more than 1/2 ounce.  So, thirty cents in postage was applied to correctly pay that rate (15 cents per 1/4 ounce).  Once again, the address gives is a street address in Paris, which happened to be the location of a post office in the city.  

And we have the words "Poste Restante" on the envelope, which roughly translates to "remaining post."  Once again, this letter was sent to the post office so the recipient could go there and pick it up.  We can't be sure why this option was used.  Perhaps the writer did not have a better address for the recipient.  Maybe Charles A Loomis was not terribly wealthy and could not use a bank or some other agent's address for mail.  In any event, it remained at the post office until it was picked up or instructions to forward the letter were given.

The thing that caught my attention is that most of Europe, even if they were not French speaking, used the words "Poste Restante" for this service.  But, not the United Kingdom.  It'll be "Post Office" for us, thank you very much!  That, believe it or not, provided the extra incentive for me to add this item to the collection.

Something to puzzle out

Sometimes I pick up an item that isn't too expensive, but I am not entirely sure what it is I've got in front of me.  I have SOME idea, but then there is something about it that isn't quite what I expect based on prior experience and my curiosity encourages me to dig into it further.

So, let's start with something similar where I KNEW what was going on.

Both of the folded letters shown here are from locations in Sardinia, which was in the process of merging other parts of Italy into the Kingdom of Italy at the time both of these letters were written.  The first was sent from Milan to Mantua in 1860 and the second from Brescia to Mantua in 1861.

Both of them have a "5" on the front that indicated that the recipient should pay for postage due.  But, they both also have Sardinian postage stamps, which tells us something must have been paid for.

I understand the second letter.  The internal postage rate in Sardinia was 20 centimes for a letter weighing no more than 7.5 grams.  Mantova, unfortunately, was NOT part of Sardinia, so the postage was paid only to the border.  That meant that the postage from the border to Mantova also had to be paid.  At the time, Mantova was under the jurisdiction of the Kingdom of Venetia, which was under the control of Austria.

The question was - why does the first letter have TWO stamps?  The second letter has one stamp denominated 20 centesimi.  The first letter has two such stamps, for 40 centesimi.  I wasn't sure of the answer at the time I acquired the folded letter, but I was pretty sure it had something to do with different weight units being used in Sardinia and Austrian controlled territories.

Sure enough.  Sardinia's internal rates was 20 centesimi for a letter up to 7.5 grams and 40 centesimi for a letter up to 20 grams.  The Austrian rates were broken up by the loth (about 15 grams).  So, the first letter was a double rate letter in Sardinia and a single rate letter in Venetia (Austria).  

Or, to make it clearer (I hope), let's pretend this letter weighed 12 grams at the time it was mailed.  The post office in Milan was going to see that the letter was more than 7.5 grams, so they were going to require 40 centesimi in postage, which were paid for in stamps.  Once the letter arrived in Mantua, the clerk there weighed this and noted that it was less than one loth and knew it would only be ONE letter rate in the Kingdom of Venetia - just like the 2nd letter, which was lighter, but they both qualified for the single rate under the Austrian system.

And those are the subtle little things that, oddly enough, make me happy.

Something that confirms that I am learning

 

I saw the front of this folded letter and I immediately thought this could be a really cool thing.  But, when you collect old pieces of postal history, you often prepare yourself for disappointment.  After all, these things are well over 150 years old.  A lot can happen during that period of time to pieces of paper.  And it is entirely possible that I don't know as much as I thought I did, which means I might not see what I was expecting because I had not yet learned enough to expect the RIGHT thing!

In any event, I saw the squiggle in the middle of this cover and I thought to myself, "I hope I'll find what I think I'll find on the back."  I knew, because I now have a reasonable amount of experience in reading squiggles like this one, that this was the number "4."  Yes.  A four.  And, I would not blame you if you looked at me and told me that I was squinting a bit too hard to see it.

I've now seen enough of the postal clerk shorthand for places like the Papal States (Italy) that I have a pretty good feel for this sort of thing.  Though I have to admit that there are many times I stare at these squiggly markings for a LONG time before I either give up or ask for some help.  

Those postal clerks marked a lot of letters and not all of them were particularly careful with how they marked them.  I am afraid they just didn't care that some silly postal historian / farmer was going to want to read those markings and puzzle out how they got from here to there.  

How dare they fail to consider my needs?!? 

And now that we are done with my righteous indignation.  Here is the an example of this sort of letter that I found a few years ago for the Papal States.

I learned with this item that letters that were prepaid have the postage stamp on the front with the address.  Those that are NOT prepaid include the amount due on the front, but have the postage stamps on the BACK of the letter or envelope.  

The front of this folded circular has a nice clear "1."  It's pretty hard for a clerk, even if they are intent on making hard to read squiggles, to mess up the number one.  This means one bajocco was due from the recipient for postage.

And sure enough, the back has a one baj postage stamp.

Over time, I have seen many examples like this one.  One baj due and a one baj stamp on the back.  It makes sense, however, that there are likely to be examples of other postage amounts due with the appropriate amounts of postage on the back.  I just hadn't really seen them in any of the places I had time to look.  Until I saw the squiggly "4."

So, I was looking for four bajocchi in postage on the back of the folded letter.  Did I find it there?
 

Yes!  Two stamps, each denominated for two bajocchi each. 

Sometimes, you're just so happy that you have demonstrated for yourself that you are learning and understanding things better than you had in times past that you just have to add an item to the collection.

Three new items - something in common

The common theme with all three of these new items is that they are variations of something for which I have some knowledge.  They didn't quite fit with what was already in my comfort zone, but they also weren't so far away that I was taking a "shot in the dark" regarding what was going on.  This is one way I like to learn - by building off of what I have constructed for myself thus far.  It is also a relatively safe way to acquire postal history items that have not been altered, either purposely or accidentally.

And there you are, a Postal History Sunday for May 8th!  I am sure you were wondering if we'd actually manage it, what with all of that farm stuff I was doing earlier in the day.  But, we've managed.

Thank you for joining me and I hope you have a find remainder of your day and a great week to come.

Questions for Rob

Manny Brautigam actually came up with a couple of questions that were related to last week's Postal History Sunday offering.  Since I DID offer that I would put the answers in future PHS entries - here we go!

"I wonder how poor Gardy came to the conclusion that he had been poisoned?

<more content not included in this blog> How much longer is this letter?"

As I re-read Gardy's letter and look at the reference in the letter from Rev Mayers, it seems as if it may have been a 'pet term' describing a recurring illness or problem Gardy had dealt with.  All we need do is transport ourselves back to ages 8-12 and ask ourselves how we would explain an unexplainable illness to ourselves and to others?

 

I have a suspicion that if I could read Rev Mayers description of the illness a bit better, there could be some information gleaned as to what the problem may have been.  However, given the fact that the Brewer's were quite wealthy, I suspect Gardy probably had the best health care could provide at the time.  And, clearly, there was no answer for it given the premature death.

 

As to the second question - it's actually harder to read Mayers writing than it is the 13 year-old's. I managed to transcribe about a quarter of it and felt like it got to the point well enough for the blog's purposes. Maybe some day in the future I'll share the rest.  But, that day is not this day!

Celebrating the Journey to 100

There are 3 ways you can participate (feel free to participate in more than one way if you wish):

1. Ask Rob a question that he can attempt to answer.
2. Send Rob a scan of a favorite postal history item and a couple of sentences about WHY this is a favorite item.
   
3. Request that Rob write on a particular postal history topic.
   

I will feature these questions, favorite items and/or topics in Postal History Sunday as we approach 100.  If you do not want me to share your name with your input, please tell me to omit that information if I choose to use your suggestion, question, or favorite item.

Questions and topic suggestions can come from people with any level of postal history knowledge.  Prior questions I have received have included "Where do you find all of these neat things?", "How long would it usually take a ship to cross the Atlantic Ocean?", "How did you figure out the United States kept five cents and sent the remaining 19 cents to Britain?", among others.

Similarly, if you choose to share a favorite item, it need not be old or super rare or really expensive.  It just needs to be a favorite item that is a piece of postal history.  Your reason for making it a favorite is enough!

And finally, yes, I do reserve the right to decline to use submissions.  After all, I may not be willing or able to answer certain questions or cover particular topics - I do have a full time job to do and have a farm to run.  But, let's all enter into this with an attitude of cooperation and I bet this could turn out pretty well!

Send those questions to me at genuinefauxfarm@gmail.com and we'll see if we can't build a Postal History Sunday or two based on them! 

Two for the Price of One - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to the May 1st edition of Postal History Sunday, featured weekly (hopefully not weakly) on the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you take this link, you can view every edition of Postal History Sunday, starting with this one (the most recent always shows up at the top).  There is plenty there to read if you have interest as this is our 89th entry into the series.

As we approach the 100th PHS, I am hopeful that I can ask you for some input - but we'll get to that at the end of this blog.  First, let's take a look at a folded letter from 1855.

Well, actually, this is a folded letter that has ANOTHER folded letter inside of it - which makes it doubly interesting.

First, let's read the cover

I thought we could start by stepping through the process of reading the cover.  Remember, you can click on each image if you want to see a larger version of the image.

There are three postage stamps from a series issued by the French in 1853, which tells us immediately that we should probably expect dates to land somewhere from 1853 to 1862, when the next series was issued.  A total of 130 centimes of postage have been applied, so we should expect a postage rate that matches (hopefully).

The other thing to take note of is the number in the cancellation markings "1896."  This is not a year date.  Instead, the French post offices were each issued hand stamps to mark the stamps so they could not be easily re-used.  Each post office was given a post office number, so hopefully this number will match up with the post office where this letter was mailed.

Then, there are a cluster of markings just underneath the stamps.

There is a black numeral "5" which is probably an indicator of an amount of postage due to be paid by the recipient.  A red marking that looks like "P.P." that probably indicates at least some of the postage was prepaid by the sender of the letter.  And, finally, a circular marking that shows that the letter was sent at the Marseille post office on Dec 18 (1855).

So, the good news so far is that an 1855 date is good for stamps issued in 1853 AND the "1896" marking matches up with the Marseille post office's number in 1855.

 The back of the folded letter provides us with a few more markings.  With these markings and the information on the front we can figure out the route this letter took:

• posted at Marseille on Dec 18
• took the train from Marseille to Lyon on Dec 18
• took the train from Lyon to Paris on Dec 19
• probably took the train from Paris to Calais on Dec 19
• crossed the channel to Britain
• took the British train system from London to Liverpool, probably getting there by the 20th
  
• boarded the Cunard Line ship Canada on Dec 22 in Liverpool
• this ship arrived in Boston on Jan 10
• the letter was taken out of the mail bag by a postal clerk in Boston on Jan 11
  

There is a docket at the top left of the front of this cover that reads "par Liverpool by the Canada Decbr 22nd."  This makes it clear that the sender intended for this letter to be sent to Liverpool and be taken across the Atlantic on the Canada.  But, the existence of a docket does not mean that the letter actually took the route indicated (though it usually did).

It's the Boston exchange office marking that helps us to confirm that the letter actually took the route indicated.  The January 11th date lines up nicely with the recorded arrival of the Canada on January 10 and the marking indicates that this was a British Packet (Br Pkt).  In other words, the sailing ship was under contract with the British to carry mail across the Atlantic.  Happily, the Cunard Line was under just such a contract - so this matches up nicely too!

Was the postage correct?

According to what we are reading on this cover, 130 centimes was prepaid by French postage stamps at the Marseille post office.  There was a marking that read "P.P." which indicates that the required postage was paid to the border of the United States.  This is markedly different from the "P.D." markings we have seen in many other Postal History Sunday entries.  A P.D. marking tells us that the item was paid all the way to its destination.  But, in this case, any postage needed to cover the mail costs in the United States was left unpaid.

That's where the black "5" on the front of the cover comes in.  The recipient had to pay five US cents to cover the cost of the United States portion of the postage.  The 130 French centimes covered the costs incurred by both the French and the British postal services.  The French post office was responsible for compensating the British for their expenses as the letter traveled through England to get to Liverpool AND for the steamship that was under contract with them to cross the Atlantic.

The good news at this point is that these numbers actually match up with the postage rates for mail from France to the United States in 1855.

The French postage was 130 centimes per 7.5 grams from December 1, 1851 until December 31, 1856.

The US postage due for incoming foreign mail was 5 cents per 1/2 ounce (about 15 grams) during that same time period.

Things would change in 1857 when the United States and France finally agreed to a postal treaty that allowed persons in each country to send mail fully prepaid to each other.   If you would like to learn more about that, you can check out this blog entry.

Two letters in one wrapper

The outer wrapper is addressed to G. Brewer, Esq of the Merriam, Brewer & Co in Boston.  This makes this items stand out a bit for me.  Why?  Well, a typical address for business correspondence would not bother calling out the individual "G. Brewer Esq."  It would simply have just given the company name and left it at that.  So, already we have a hint that this may well have had content of a personal nature for G. Brewer.

Sure enough, as I checked the contents, I found two types of paper with letters clearly written by two different persons.  Now, I have seen instances where a letter that did not belong with a cover had somehow gotten mixed up and in the wrong place, so I decided to read and see if I could determine if these both belonged together. 

The letter on white paper was started on December 10th - and it rapidly became apparent that it was written by a young person to his siblings, who remained back in Boston.

The writer referred to himself as Gardy (based on his signature) and he addressed his letter to Carry and Nelly.

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

Dear Carry and Nelly

Since I last wrote I have had all of a sudden an outbreak of poison the same as I had at home which has kept me in the house several days and so I take the opportunity to write to you.  And what do you think just in the middle of it who should call but Mr. Wales and he invited me to come and dine with them but as I had the poison I could not go out, neither could I go out to the Spragues on Thursday.  But you may be sure that everybody was very kind to me and so the time passed very pleasantly on the whole.  You don’t know what cold weather we have had of late.  On last Wednesday there was ice so thick, the great wonder is that we have had no wind for at least a month.

December 11^th

I must now tell you what Mr. Mayers sent in the Samson, first there are two wooden boxes and one cardboard full of preserved fruits.  Then there is an old friend of yours, one of the tins in which the biscuits came has also been filled with preserved fruit, dates and brignolles.  The dates I bought myself.  There are two kinds you will not know, the name of the square green things are pieces of Pastegne as they call the watermelon here.  The other is a little round yellow fruit with three stones in it called Azerrolle a kind of medlar(?) which I think you will find very good.

You will find less crystallized than glace fruit as the crystallized is less profitable.

December 13

I received Father’s and Calcutta’s(?) letters last night and am trying to guess what my New Year’s presents are.  I will tell you a nice name for the little dog: “Zing a”.

The Miss Mayers are very much obliged to you for the music which we got yesterday but which they got (?).  Miss Mayers have not had time to try.  You know that the 20^th is my birthday.  Well Mr. Mayers has been kind enough to invite two French boys to come and spend the day with us so I shall have a nice time.

You asked me of what wood the bracelets are.  Well they are made of cocoanut wood and made by the convicts at Toulon.  Today George and I are going to spend on board the “Texas” where we expect to have a nice time thought it is very cold.  I must not forget to ask you if you got the liqueur by the “Star Light” all safe as you do not speak of it in your letter.

December 18^th

You know that in the first part of my letter I said that it was very cold but now it is too hot to put on my great coat.  And now in conclusion I wish you Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.  With best love to all.  Your affectionate brother.

Gardy

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

Well, the dates seem to match, but I was hoping the letter written on the blue-gray paper would confirm that young Gardy's letter had actually come under the same wrapper.

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

Marseille Tuesday Dec 18, 1855

My dear sir,

You will scarcely be surprised – Gardy having repeatedly been so affected – to learn that one morning during the week before  - but on entering his room to call him I found his face considerably swollen.  Inflamed and a slight (?) formed.  He immediately on being made aware of it exclaimed “I am poisoned” describing the way (?) think he had been affected on former occasions (?). We kept him in bed that day and applied hot fomentatier? Finding on the following day that both the swelling  and ? had increased.  I thought it advisable to send for our medical man who treated the matter very slightly (?) prescribed certain drinks such as rice barley water, tisane, and ordered him to remain within doors for a week or 10 days and be careful in his diet. 

The second day after he was so taken ? friend M. G. W Wales called and sat with Gardy in our drawing room for some time and he will have assured ? ‘ere this as I suppose that he did not fare very badly.  He kept his bed for one day only and during the other 8 or 9 days that he stayed away from the college his spirits run so high that I can assure you we were somewhat relieved when he was able to go out again.  He flew about the house at random.....

<more content not included in this blog>

signed by M. John Mayers (which you can see in the image above)

---------------------- 

And there it is!  The confirmation we needed that these letters did, in fact, belong together.  The events line up well and clearly the outer letter is written by the guardian in Marseille for young Gardy to Gardy's father, G Brewer.  

Tracking down G. Brewer

Now that I had a glimpse into some of the personal lives of those who had a hand in writing these interesting letters, I had to do a little work to get some idea as to their story lines.  My first success was in finding an 1852 advertisement that featured Merriam, Brewer & Company.

Apparently the company were merchants that focused on the textile industry.  This gave me a little more leverage to determine that the addressee was Gardner Brewer, which certainly matches up with his having a son who was known as "Gardy."  That left me with little doubt that the young person writing the enclosed letter was probably named Gardner Brewer as well.

image from Celebrate Boston site

Merriam, Brewer & Co was apparently quite successful and Gardner Brewer was one of the wealthiest residents of Boston at the time.  His affluence is reflected in the Brewer Fountain in the Boston Common.  According to the Celebrate Boston site:

Gardner Brewer ... was born in Boston in 1800 (note, other sources site his birth year as 1806) and died in Newport, RI in 1874. He was one of the wealthiest and most liberal of Boston merchants. After attaining his maturity he was for some time a distiller, but afterward engaged in the dry-goods trade, and founded the house of Gardner Brewer & Co., which represented some of the largest mills in New England, and had branches in New York and Philadelphia.

In the dry-goods business ... he accumulated a fortune which, at his death, was estimated at several million dollars.

Mr. Brewer ... used his large wealth liberally for the public good, and shortly before his death gave to the city of Boston [this] beautiful fountain, which stands on an angle on Boston Common.

Brewer's home at 29 Beacon St was also something to behold and photographic records can be found here and here.  So, clearly, not ALL of Brewer's wealth went to the "public good."

Another article by Aline Kaplan that focuses on the Brewer Fountain provided me with a bit more insight that helped me figure out the story line around these letters.  

[T]he fountain ... was named for the man who paid for it and then donated it to the city of Boston. In 1855, Bostonian Gardner Brewer traveled to France to see the Exposition Universelle de Paris, a world’s fair.  There, a fountain created by two French sculptors, Mathurin Moreau and Alexandre Lambert, caught his eye.

The Palais d'Industrie in Paris from article by Arthur Chandler

 The world's fair in Paris ran from May 15 to November 15 in 1855.  So, it does not seem too far fetched to conclude that Gardner Brewer brought his son with him during his travels to France.  And, it was not all that uncommon for the children of the wealthy to study abroad, even if they were quite young.  So, it is possible that Gardner Sr returned to Boston, while little Gardy stayed in France under the care of M. John Mayers.

I don't suppose we could figure out who M. John Mayers was?

I guess it should not surprise me too much that someone as affluent as Gardner Brewer would probably associate with others who were, in one way or another, prominent people for the time.  This simply makes it more possible for me, 167 years later, to find various references to the people involved in this particular story line.

My first solid line on this individual came in the form of a paper by Amanda J. Haste, Ph.D., "The British Colony in Marseille: Meeting the Challenges of Migrant Life, 1850-1915."  Haste points out that the expansion of trade through Marseille led to an increasing number of British "ex-pats" looking to create some of their own community and safe-spaces in the city.

Marseille’s first chaplain, the Revd. Michael John Mayers (1850-64) ... lost no time in establishing a Sailors’ Home, or bethel. The traditional Bethel, or ‘House of God’ was a chapel, and sometimes a hostel, for sailors, and Mayers’ Marseille bethel provided everything the British sailor could need: food at cost price, and drink – but only tea, or an infusion of eucalyptus, because the bethels were strictly teetotal. The Sailors’ Home had rooms for conversation, for meetings, and for worship, as well as a library. Importantly, sailors could also rent accommodation at a very reasonable rate, thereby saving them from the bars and brothels.

Using money drummed up during a fundraising trip to the United States, the Revd. Mayers was able to open his Sailors’ Home in 1854.

One has to wonder if, perhaps, the connection to Gardener Brewer may well have started during that same fundraising trip to the United States in the early 1850s.

Jean-Yves Carluer's blog provides us with even more context for the "House of Sailors" that was run by Rev Mayers, though Carluer points out that the day to day operations were managed by someone named Arthur Canney.  But, it does become clear in this writing that Mayers had connections to a parent organization in New York City, a city where Brewer had a branch office.

If we recall Gardy's letter to his sisters, we will find that he mentions a chance to visit the Texas, likely a ship at the Marseille harbor.  Mayers' connections to the sailing community probably made it easier for him to get his young charge a chance to visit some of the ships visiting the harbor.

Whatever became of young Gardy? 

It appears that Gardy was only 13 years old at the time he wrote this letter to his older sisters Caroline (Carry) and Ellen (Nelly).  Sadly, the "poison" that plagued young Gardner Brewer may have been a sign of a problem that medicine of the time could not repair and he died two years later, in 1857.

While this may be a sad ending to this particular writing of the story, we can still transport ourselves back to 1855 with young Gardy still "flying about the house at random..." by reading his letter to his sisters.

Thank you for reading Postal History Sunday!  I hope you have a fine remainder of your day and wonderful week to come.

Celebrating the Journey to 100

I am fairly certain that the ONLY person counting the number of Postal History Sunday blog posts is me.  But, since I have bothered to pay some attention to the count, it seems like it could add a little flavor if there were some participation as we approach the anticipated 100th Postal History Sunday.

Here is the plan (what, we need a plan?).

There are 3 ways you can participate (feel free to participate in more than one way if you wish):

1. Ask Rob a question that he can attempt to answer.
2. Send Rob a scan of a favorite postal history item and a couple of sentences about WHY this is a favorite item.
   
3. Request that Rob write on a particular postal history topic.
   

I will feature these questions, favorite items and/or topics in Postal History Sunday as we approach 100.  If you do not want me to share your name with your input, please tell me to omit that information if I choose to use your suggestion, question, or favorite item.

Questions and topic suggestions can come from people with any level of postal history knowledge.  Prior questions I have received have included "Where do you find all of these neat things?", "How long would it usually take a ship to cross the Atlantic Ocean?", "How did you figure out the United States kept five cents and sent the remaining 19 cents to Britain?", among others.

Similarly, if you choose to share a favorite item, it need not be old or super rare or really expensive.  It just needs to be a favorite item that is a piece of postal history.  Your reason for making it a favorite is enough!

And finally, yes, I do reserve the right to decline to use submissions.  After all, I may not be willing or able to answer certain questions or cover particular topics - I do have a full time job to do and have a farm to run.  But, let's all enter into this with an attitude of cooperation and I bet this could turn out pretty well!

Send those questions to me at genuinefauxfarm@gmail.com and we'll see if we can't build a Postal History Sunday or two based on them!