You Can't Get There From Here - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to 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).  

Everyone is welcome here!  Are you just curious, but not really looking to become a postal historian yourself?  Grab a favorite beverage and have a seat!  Are you curious, but you are a renowned expert in some specialized area of postal history?  There's a spot for you in that chair right there.  And look!  There are some fuzzy slippers if you would like to wear them.  

The thing that brings us all together here is curiosity and an interest in learning. 

Our featured item 

My, doesn't that sound formal and everything? (Our featured item)  Well, don't let that fool you - we're pretty relaxed when it comes to Postal History Sunday.  There will NOT be a test at the end.  You will NOT be required to share your favorite part of today's post.  I, on the other hand, will do my best to make this interesting and enjoyable - so here we go!

I often find that the best way to start is to look at what the cover has to show us first.  Once we do that, we can try to figure what it all means.  Maybe there is an interesting story that goes along with the piece of paper?

This is a smaller envelope that was mailed in Louisville, Kentucky (US) on December 11, 1940 according to the round postmark.  There are no contents in the envelope.  There are two US postage stamps, each denominated as representing 15 cents in postage paid.  So, the sender must have expected the cost to send a letter to the addressee in Paris, France to be 30 cents.

There are two purple markings easily visible on the front of the cover.  One reads "Return to Sender, Service Suspended" and the other says "Retour a l'envoyeur relations postales interrompues."  Translated, this means "return to sender, interrupted postal relations."  There is also a piece of tape on the right and a very hard to see, football-shaped marking at the right as well.

The back of the cover (we call envelopes or sheets of paper that held the contents of the mail a cover), shows us a bit more about the tape, which has the word "controle" printed on it.  There are some Christmas seals from the year 1940 holding the envelope's flap down.  And there are two more markings.  One is a couple of circles with a "P" in the center.  Another is a box with a patriotic slogan at the bottom.  And the third is that football shaped marking again.

Identifying things that are different from the norm

Many of us can probably come to a few conclusions based on what we see on this envelope.  But the easiest for those of us who grew up celebrating Christian holidays is that this letter probably held a Christmas card or Christmas message.  The shape of the envelope is right for just such a card.  The postmark date of December 11 lines up pretty well for someone trying to get the card to their acquaintance in France prior to December 25.  And, the Christmas Seals tend to... um... seal the deal on that line of thinking.

As a postal historian, I am attracted to two things:

1. items that clearly show the normal, most common results for mail handling
2. items that clearly show that things didn't go the way they normally do

Ok,ok.  You got me.  You could make the argument that this means I am interested in everything.  But, bear with me for a second.  

I like to find items that very clearly show me how things would NORMALLY look and then I can compare and contrast them to things that have something different going on.  This helps me to isolate the exception and learn about what is different on a piece of postal history.

Surface mail from US to Switzerland : 5 cents first ounce from Oct 1, 1907 - Oct 31, 1953

Here is a good example of a "normal" mail item in the 1930s from the United States to Switzerland.  There is a 5 cent postage stamp to pay the postage rate for a simple letter (a letter that did not weigh more than one ounce).  There is a postmark for Jackson, Michigan showing the date and time it was mailed.  There is also a cancellation marking on the postage stamp to prevent someone from trying to reuse it on a future piece of mail.  There are no additional markings on the back.

This is my example of what would be a fairly normal piece of mail.  Now we can make some comparisons with our featured item.

Difference #1 - Surface Mail vs Air Mail

Our first difference has to do with the amount of postage.  Thirty cents is quite a bit more to be paying to send a bit of mail from the US to France.  To explain this, there are two options that are most likely.  First, this could be a heavier letter that weighed more than one ounce.  And second, the extra postage could be paying for some sort of additional service.  

Since I find it doubtful that a Christmas card and maybe a piece of paper or two with a letter would weigh more than one ounce, I'll go with the second choice.

Because I happen to know that air mail services were becoming increasingly available to the general public, that becomes my first guess.  It turns out that airmail to a European destination at the time was 30 cents per 1/2 ounce.  This rate was effective from April 28, 1939 until October 31, 1946.

I think we have a winner!

Surface mail is just what it sounds like.  The mail is carried by vehicles that travel on the surfaces of the earth (waterways, railways and roads).  These routes were already well established and the costs to the postal services around the world was much less.  Air mail, on the other hand, was still pretty new and routes were still being established.

This item is discussed in more detail in this Postal History Sunday

Case in point, here is an envelope that commemorates the first flight of Foreign Air Mail (FAM) route number 18 mailed on May 20, 1939 - just a year and a half prior to our featured envelope.  Our featured item could very well have flown this very route, but we need to remember that World War II had begun and it is possible routes were in flux at this time.

Costs for airmail services were still much higher than surface mail, and there was no way air mail service was going to carry the volume of mail that surface mail carriers could.  So, it makes sense that the postage was significantly higher.  If you wanted a plane to carry this letter from here to there (and get there faster), you had to be willing to pay for that service.

Difference #2 - Censorship of Mail

The piece of tape at the left that says "Controle" and the football shaped marking are illustrating something else that is different with our featured item.  This envelope was opened by censors to check the contents and make sure sensitive information could not be gleaned from them.  After the item was checked, the envelope was resealed with the censor tape (controle) and the football shaped marking was applied to provide tracking as to where the letter was opened.

The football shape marking, if it were clearer, would read "Ouvert par les Autorites de Controle" or "Opened by the control authorities."  This marking was applied in Marseille, France - where this letter was opened and viewed.  It was common practice to reseal the item with the censor tape first and then apply a handstamp such that it was partially on the tape and partially on the original envelope/cover.  The whole point was to show that the envelope was not searched again by someone after the censors had taken a look.

Here is another example of a World War II era envelope that was also opened by a censor.  I believe this one was processed by the British.  Once again, there is a printed tape that is used to reseal the envelope.  A handstamp marking was placed on the front so that it is both on the tape and the envelope.

I am admittedly NOT an expert in mail censorship in general or during World War II, but there are many who study these areas.  This site at postalcensorship.com includes many examples of censored mail that you can view if you would like. And, if you would like to read about the formation of the censorship services in the US during World War II, this Master's Thesis by Alvin McDaniel, Jr. might be of interest to you.

Difference #3 - this letter was returned

On June 14, 1940, Germany took control of Paris (where this letter was headed in December).  A significant part of the population evacuated the city and mail services were interrupted to occupied France.  A new, semi-autonomous government for 'unoccupied France' was established with its headquarters in Vichy in July.  Mail sent to the occupied portion of France would be directed to Vichy-France, but there was no way to exchange mail with German-occupied France.  Essentially, mail for the occupied zone simply built up in Vichy France until...

In September of 1941, by order of the occupying authorities (Germany), mails were formally suspended to occupied France.  All of the mail built up waiting for a chance to be sent forward was returned to their origins.  Estimates at the time suggested between 100,000 and 180,000 pieces of letter mail were returned to the United States between September 17 and October 1 in 1941 - of which this is one such item!

The New York Times, on September 19, 1941 printed a copy of an announcement notifying the public that this mail was being returned.  And, of course, stamp collectors paid even more attention than much of the public.

from Western Stamp Collector, Oct 1, 1941

Want to learn more?  Well, you're in luck!  There is a nice two-part article by Lawrence Sherman that can be viewed here (part I) and here (part II).  In fact, I was alerted to the snipping you see above in the Sherman piece.  You may also enjoy this article that talks about the resumption of mail service in 1944 by Louis Fiset.

Difference #4 - There are Christmas seals

The original idea of selling Christmas Seals to raise funds to deal with tuberculosis (TB) appears to have surfaced in Denmark in 1904.  In 1907, Emily Bissell (American Red Cross) designed their first Christmas seal with the intent of funding an experimental TB hospital in Wilmington, Delaware.  In the present day, the American Lung Association continues to sell these seals each year (with a different design each year).

There was a problem with some people putting these seals on the front (address) side of mail.  In fact, there were instances of persons attempting to use a seal as a substitute for postage.  This article by John Hotcher, discusses the postal rule that prohibited their use on the front (address side) in 1911 - only to have that regulation removed later on.

Didn't you miss something?

What me?  Did I miss something? 

Well, of course I did.  This is me illustrating to everyone reading this that there is always more a person can learn if they want to.  Each topic above can be explored in great depth (air mail, mail censorship, returned letters and charity seals).  In fact, there are people who have expertise and knowledge of each that far exceeds my own.  But this does not prevent me from working on my best understanding with the information and resources available to me and sharing what I have discovered with you.

So, what did I not discuss?  How about this marking?

I cannot tell you with any certainty what this marking indicates or why it was applied to the back of this cover. Of course, I can make educated guesses based on my experience looking at many other covers - including others that went to France in 1940/41.  But rather than guess, I will leave the question open.  Maybe someone who reads this week's Postal History Sunday will make me (and eventually you) that much wiser.

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

Costs of Doing Business - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to 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, we are going to feature several pieces of mail that, unless you are looking at them carefully, look to be very similar.  Each and every folded letter is part of the same correspondence between Dutton & Townsend in New York and Jose Esteban Gomez in Cadiz, Spain.  Every single one of the items I will share in this blog features the 24 cent 1861 postage stamp I favor and, in each case, that stamp paid enough postage for the letter to find its way to Cadiz - even though there were times when Gomez had to pay more postage for the privilege of receiving the correspondence.

Different Rates - Same Route

In 1864, the year in which this letter was mailed, Spain was one of the locations in the world where the United States did not have a direct postal agreement to exchange mail.  That meant that correspondents would have to rely on intermediary postal services to get the job done.  In this case, the options were the postal services in the United Kingdom and France.  And since these letters were all destined for Cadiz, the route for each letter ended up being pretty much the same - even though there were multiple postage rate options (which we will talk about later in this Postal History Sunday).

This business letter traveled from New York to Queenstown, Ireland and then to London.  From London, the letter traveled through France, passing through Paris, on its way to the shared border with Spain.  There were two primary border crossings where France and Spain exchanged mail, one in the west at Irun and the other in the east at La Junquera.  Other crossings were limited to local mail.

Since our letters are all destined to Cadiz, and the eastern crossing would be for destinations primarily in Eastern Spain and the Catalan region, we can make a fairly good assumption that each of these went through Irun.

A rough rendering of the route to Cadiz

As a quick geography refresher, I supply you with the map above that shows the route this letter most likely took as it left London, entered France (at Calais) and then went to the western end of the border shared by France and Spain.  Bayonne would be one of the closest communities on the French side and Irun would be the companion Spanish community.  For those who are curious, the eastern exchange would have Le Perthus on the French side of the border and La Junquera on the Spanish side.

What was in that letter?

Dutton & Townsend of New York sent many business letters to Gomez over a period of ten or so years.  Many of the items available to collectors have had at least some of the contents removed.  However, I am lucky to have one that appears to be fully intact (this belongs to the folded letter shown at the beginning of this blog).

"No. 70 Beaver Street, New York December 23, 1864

Dear Sir, 

Your esteemed favor of September 28th last was duly received and its contents duly considered.  We are glad to learn that we shall probably gain something by the interest you have retained for us in your last sales of our staves.

We have again concluded to try your market with a cargo of staves from your opinion expressed that you could probably sell them on arrival so to compensate us.  We have accordingly chartered and loaded the Brig Mattapony of Bath, Captain S.G.Wyman, and she is now on her way to you having sailed yesterday 22 instant."

The context at the opening of this business letter tells us that this is not the first letter in this correspondence.  It sounds like Gomez may have contacted Dutton & Townsend and suggested that he could serve as a broker for their staves in Cadiz.  Prior offerings had gone well, so a new shipment with a range of product (different size and types of staves) was already on its way.

"These staves are of the very best quality of their several kinds and we think you will say on seeing them that the cargo is as fine a one as ever you have received....  This cargo we have caused to be insured here both against marine loss and rebel pirates.  So that in case of loss you will please have the necessary documents sent to us to collect the insurance..."

In late 1864 to early 1865, the threat of Confederate privateers was minimal.  Early enthusiasm for privateering had waned greatly when those private vessels who managed to capture a merchant vessel couldn't get to a Confederate court to collect their reward.  Why take the risk when the award was uncertain?

Even so, Dutton & Townsend indicated that they had acquired insurance for their cargo.  The potential of this account was apparently lucrative enough that it was worth adding this price to the cost of doing business.

What was Dutton & Townsend?

The letter content provides us with a place of business in New York City, which gives us the opportunity to explore a bit further.

Trow's New York City Directory, May 1, 1865

Trow's New York City Directory confirms for us that Dutton & Townsend held office space at 70 Beaver Street and that the business dealt in "staves and heading."  We also learn here that the two persons headlining this business are Edward H. Dutton and John P. Townsend.

Beyond that, it is interesting to me that the only reference of substance I have been able to find (thus far) for Dutton & Townsend has to do with a prior business named Sherman & Romaine.  This business, headed by Isaac Sherman and Benjamin F. Romaine, was established in New York City in 1853 when these two purchased the rough stave business of a William Dennistoun.  According to the source I cite below (*), this was the largest rough stave business in the United States, shipping out as many as 14 million staves in a year.  This volume was enough to take up at least some of the cargo hold for as many as 1000 ships annually.

John P Townsend was a clerk who eventually earned an interest in the business, but when Romaine died, two businesses were spun off of the original in 1862.  One of the two was Dutton & Townsend and the other was Sherman & Wibert.  The latter business ended in 1866, while the former appears to have gone on for much longer.

* Portrait Gallery of the Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York: Catalogue and Biographical Sketches,  compiled by George Wilson, Press of the Chamber of Commerce, New York, 1890, p. 209.

Cooper with barrel - mid 1800s from Library of Congress (DAG no. 1196)

Rough wooden staves were the raw material needed for the construction of barrels by coopers worldwide.  Headings were the boards that were used to construct the top and bottoms of these barrels (hence a business that sold "staves and headings").  According to this site (Roots Web), most barrels require from 24 to 36 staves to make the body.  Wooden barrels were used to ship and store a wide range of products, including wine, oil and other liquids.  The image below comes from the American Oil and Gas Historical Society, which explains why the 42 gallon barrel became the standard for oil production (an interesting read if you are so inclined).

I have been unable to learn anything about Jose Esteban Gomez, but given the location, it is entirely possible that he sold much of this material to cooperages that built barrels for the wine industry that was fairly strong in the Sherry and Malaga regions in southern Spain at that time.

Mail Options from the U.S. to Spain

Both Dutton & Townsend and Gomez were not too concerned about pinching pennies when it came to postage.  Nearly every point in time during this ten year period there were options to get a letter mailed for less than 24 cents.  It seems that Dutton & Townsend, just always put a 24 cent stamp on the letter, knowing that it would be enough to handle any of the available options for mailing.  They wrote off extra postage as a cost of doing business.

While the route was pretty much the same, there were actually several postal rate options if a person wanted to send a letter from the United States to Spain.

1. Prepay to Spanish border via French Mail

21 cents per 1/4 ounce to Spanish border - April 1857 to December 1869

This letter was mailed in Boston on August 2, 1865 to Gomez in Cadiz.  Apparently, someone with the Dutton & Townsend business was traveling and still corresponding with clients.   The 24 cent stamp overpaid this rate by three cents, but it did the job and got the letter to the border of Spain.  The recipient, however, still needed to pay 4 reales to receive the letter to cover the Spanish portion of the postage.

The biggest piece of evidence that this item was sent using the French mails are the black, circular markings near the postage stamp.  They read "Et Unis Serv 14 Aout 65."  The boxed "P.D." marking is also an indicator to us that this was sent via the French Mail agreement.

The biggest disadvantage of this rate was that it was by the quarter ounce (or 7.5 grams).  It was not hard to have a heavier letter that weighed more than that, but less than a half ounce (which was the weight unit for another mailing rate option).  So, only very light letters would cost less than the 24 cents Dutton and Townsend seemed content to pay.

2. Prepay to destination via British Mail

22 cents per 1/4 ounce to destination - January 1868 - December 1869

The second option was not available until 1868, but it also had added the benefit that that the letter would be prepaid all the way to the recipient.  In this case, the 24 cent stamp overpaid the rate by only 2 cents AND Senor Gomez was not required to pay extra money for the privilege of getting the next invoice or business correspondence from Dutton & Townsend.

Once again, this rate was by the quarter ounce.  If a letter was just a little bit heavier, it would require 44 cents, which was apparently something Dutton & Townsend wanted to avoid.  Perhaps they had many sheets of 24 cent stamps they wanted to use up?

3. Pay only what you must to get the letter to the British, let Gomez pay the rest.

21 cents per 1/2 ounce via American Packet to British Mails - October 1858 to December 1867

This brings us back to our first letter.  This one was definitely heavier than the two prior items and would have cost 42 or 44 cents respectively using those rates.  So, instead of doing that, Dutton and Townsend sent this via a provision known as the British Open Mails.

The basic premise of British Open Mails was that the sender only needed to pay for any mail service required to get the item TO the British postal system.  In this case, it cost 5 cents to get this letter to the ship (City of Cork) that would cross the Atlantic.  And, since that ship was under contract with the United States, that had to be paid for as well (16 cents).  That gives us a grand total of 21 cents due to get this item to the British.

Once again, Dutton and Townsend overpaid the postage by three cents, but they were able to send a heavier letter without having to put another stamp on it.  Gomez, on the other hand, may not have been as happy with this because 8 reales were collected from him when the letter was picked up.  An unpaid letter from England cost 4 reales per 1/4 ounce (approximately).  This item weighed more than 1/4 ounce and no more than 1/2 ounce, so 8 reales was the calculated postage due.

So, the total postage paid for the letter was 21 cents (for the US) and 8 reales (for everything else).

5 cents per 1/2 ounce via British Packet to British Mails - October 1858 to December 1867

But, what happened if a ship crossing the Atlantic was under contract with the British?  The only postage a person would need to pay in order to use the British Open Mails was the 5 cents required to get the item to that ship while it was in an American port!

Surely Dutton & Townsend would decide this represented too great a loss and it would invest in a few five cent postage stamps for this situation?  Apparently not!  Sometimes a cost of business is acceptable if the trade-off provides sufficient convenience.  We can not argue that Dutton & Townsend were unaware of the shipping schedules, because each letter identifies the ship of departure the letter was intended to take.  We have to conclude that an overpay of nineteen cents apparently did not mean much for this business's bottom line. 

In every case, there was extra postage paid that was not used.  Gomez usually had to pay some of the postage (with the notable exception of the 22 cent rate via Britain).  The account must have been lucrative enough that neither party cared to spend the extra energy to save a few pennies on either end.  Though I have to admit that Gomez had fewer options at his disposal.  If he wanted to read the letter, he had to pay for it.  

In fact, some of the letters from this correspondence also show that duplicate letters were often mailed (the word "duplicate" is a docket).  This could be simply a reminder to pay for a shipment or it was, perhaps, an additional 'insurance' for possible loss at sea.

Whatever the reasons or the logic, I suspect both parties just accepted postage (and the overpayments) as a "cost of doing business."

10 cents per 1/2 ounce paid to England - January 1868 to December 1869

But, I've still got one more of these up my sleeve!  Here's an 1869 item from the correspondence with another 24 cent stamp to pay the postage.  The British Open Mail cost was now a ten cent flat rate, it did not matter which ship carried the letter across the Atlantic.  

This is the same period of time when the 22 cent rate per 1/4 ounce was in effect to pay the letter to destination, so we might be tempted to ask why this letter didn't use that rate?  Well, apparently, the letter weighed more than 1/4 ounce, so it went using a postage rate that the 24 cent stamp could cover.

The postage rate for an unpaid letter in Spain, from England, must have decreased, so only 4 reales were collected from Senor Gomez this time around.  I have yet to track down that specific information, so if someone has it, I would appreciate hearing from you!

Bonus Material

Back of the folded letter shown above.

Several of the folded letters, but not all, show an interesting marking on the back.  This oval marking appears in black ink and bears the word "Lista."  The purpose of this was to indicate that the letter was held at the post office and it was advertised in the newspaper as being available for pick up by Gomez.

In prior Postal History Sunday entries, you might remember some discussion that not all letters were delivered by a carrier to the person at their address.  Some letters were kept at the post office and awaited the arrival of the recipient (or someone representing them) to come and pick up their mail.  Many post offices would also advertise that letters were available for pick up after they had been in the office for a certain period of time.  Each postal system had different procedures, but many in the 1860s required that the recipient pay an additional fee for letters that had to be advertised.

Is it possible that Jose Esteban Gomez had to pay even a bit more for his letters?  If someone knows the regulations for advertised letters in Spain during this time frame, feel free to contact me.

The last cover I wanted to show today is another British Open Mail item where the 5 cent postage stamp paid the 21 cents required to get the item to England.  This letter is dated October 7, 1863, showing us that the Gomez correspondence with Dutton & Townsend had origins prior to the first letter in our post.

Thanks for reading and your feedback

Some of you might have been saying, at some point during this Postal History Sunday, "didn't Rob do something on this in a prior entry?"  If you did, good for you!  I took a first pass on this topic in May of 2021, not long after I underwent surgery to have a kidney removed.  And, ever since then, I've felt like I had not provided the full attention it deserved.  On the other hand, if this is all new to you - ignore that last bit!

Either way, this is a story that has plenty of complexity and even more that could be explored in the future.  And that, my friends, is part of what motivates me to continue with Postal History Sunday.  There is so much more to learn and so much learning to share.

After last week's entry titled Quarantine!, I received several kind words from people who read and enjoyed that entry.  I found that gratifying as I felt that it was one of my better efforts in this series that has now passed the two year mark of weekly writings.

I would also like to reiterate that I do encourage feedback of all sorts, including constructive criticism, appropriate corrections, and suggestions for resources or directions to continue investigating a given story.

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

Quarantine! - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to 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).  

So... what have we here?

Today's featured item is an envelope that has a fancy, pre-printed design for the State of New York Health Officer's Department.  Specifically, this envelope advertised that it came from the Quarantine on Staten Island.  This design alone speaks to a significant story related to the immigration of people to the United States.

The postal history angle is actually pretty simple this time around.  The three cent stamp pays the postage for a letter mailed within the United States that weighed no more than a half ounce.  According to the postmark, the envelope entered the US mails at Tompkinsville, New York on April 22, 1864.  The letter found its way to Chateaugay, New York in Franklin County in the northeast portion of the state, near the Canada border.

The letter is addressed to R.G. Swinburne, care of Ralph Swinburne at Chateaugay.  If you look carefully, you can see that the person writing this address crossed out "Rouses," which would have become "Rouse's Point" in New York if they had continued writing.  The envelope itself has no contents, but I can tell you that this item was written by a Dr. John Swinburne, who was sending something to either a brother or a nephew.

Before we go further, let's take a look at a map or two so we can orient ourselves a little bit before we get to the fun stuff.

northeastern shore of Staten Island

Staten Island highlighted in red

Much of our story focuses on the area shown on this 1873 map at the left that shows the grounds of the "Quarentine" (sic), an area that would soon appear as a privately owned property with multiple wharves and warehouses in maps from the 1880s.  Remember, you can click on images if you want to see a larger version of the image.

This, of course, leaves us with the question - why do I find all of this so interesting?  Read on, and maybe you'll agree that there is a good story behind this old envelope.

The quarantine on Staten Island to 1858

view of quarantine station on Staten Island, 1858 from NY Public Library

The Harbor of New York has a long history of using quarantine to attempt to limit the spread of disease brought to port with incoming travelers and immigrants.  Our story starts with the quarantine grounds and buildings located at Tompkinsville, New York on Staten Island.  The state legislature designated  this location for quarantine and by 1801 it was fully established as such.  A hospital was built at that time (which became known as the Marine Hospital), a wharf was constructed, and an area was designated for anchoring ships that were under quarantine.

By the time we get to the 1840s and 50s, there were multiple buildings serving as hospitals, including one dedicated to Yellow Fever and another to Smallpox on the 1845 map shown below.

1845 map of the Quarantine grounds at Tompkinsville from NY Public Library

This article on the Whaling Museum site provides an excellent summary of the quarantine process:

By 1846 all ships coming into New York Harbor had to anchor off Staten Island for quarantine inspection.  The ships were boarded and if any signs of disease were found all the passengers were taken to the Quarantine Hospital on Staten Island which was opened in 1799 and called the Quarantine.  First-class passengers were taken to St. Nicholas Hospital at the Quarantine and steerage passengers were taken to smelly, overcrowded bunkhouses stripped naked and disinfected with steaming water. [1] The ship then had to remain in quarantine for at least 30 days and sometimes as long as six months.   There were as many as eight thousand patients in the hospital in a year.   It was very dangerous work for the staff and funeral expenses for employees was a category in the accounting books.

An article in Harper's Weekly titled "The Forgotten of Ellis Island," provides an excellent summary of the history of the Quarantine for the New York Harbor that may also be of interest to you.  (Harper's Weekly, A Journal of Civilization, Vol. XXIII, No. 1184, Sep 6, 1879)

It is at this point that we need to remind everyone that Staten Island was NOT an abandoned island with the sole purpose to serve as a quarantine.  There were multiple communities where people lived, including Tompkinsville.  Some of these people worked at the Marine Hospital, while many others were fearful of the possible spread of disease from the Quarantine to the island population.  People were raising families and were less than happy to have this facility in their back yard.  And, of course, many of the wealthier landowners were less than pleased by the impact the quarantine site had on land values.

Rioters burn the Quarantine

image from Library of Congress

On September 1, 1858, a mob of armed individuals burned down many of the buildings at the Quarantine, leaving only one active hospital building.  The local fire department, sympathetic to the cause of the rioters, claimed that their hoses were cut as they stood by and watched the fires burn.  Fortunately, the rioters, for the most part, gave warning and encouraged residents and patients to vacate prior to the planned arsons. 

Harper's Weekly reported on September 11, 1858 that a pamphlet was circulated on the following day that read as follows:

A Meeting of the Citizens of Richmond County, will be held at Nautilus Hall, Tompkinsville, this Evening,  Sept. 2 at 7 1-2 o’clock, For the purpose of making arrangements to celebrate the burning of the Shanties and Hospitals at the Quarantine ground last evening, and to transact such business as may come before the  meeting. September 2d, 1858.

The riots on September 2 were also not a surprise to those at the quarantine as they had been warned that there were intentions to burn the rest of the buildings, including dwellings, to the ground.  In fact, those living in various staff quarters on the grounds removed their furniture and belongings and stood by them to protect them when the rioters returned for a second night.  

Most of the healthy individuals who were under quarantine had been moved during the day, but there remained some staff and patients at the remaining hospital (identified as the "Female Hospital" though I am not certain which one that was).  These individuals were evacuated prior to that building going up in flames, but they were not far away.  Medical personnel poured buckets of water on the sick to help keep them cool while the building burned nearby. (from Stephenson, Kathryn. "The quarantine war: the burning of the New York Marine Hospital in 1858." Public Health Reports, Jan-Feb, 2004)

If you want to read the details of the motivations and the events, I strongly recommend you read that paper.

Now what?  Where's the Quarantine?

Was this area protected by the Marines?

It was at this point that we might be tempted to ask some questions about the envelope that started this whole Postal History Sunday.  If everything was burned down, did they rebuild in the same location even after the local populace had made their feelings about it known so "eloquently?"

Stephenson reports that about 60 US Marines were assigned to protect particular buildings (but nothing else) on September 2 (probably the fenced in area at the bottom right in the 1845 map).  It is possible this is where administration for the Quarantine continued after the 1858 riots, but I have been unable to confirm that.

The short answer was that they did not rebuild at Tompkinsville.  Instead, they moved most of the quarantine to a "floating hospital" (the Florence Nightingale) that was dedicated for this purpose.  Some sources suggest that the steamships Falcon, Empire City and Illinois all served this purpose when needed.  But, it is unclear to me if they were used between 1858 and 1864.

What is clear is that the quarantine protocols for the New York Harbor were now in disarray and the Quarantine was provided with little in the way of resources.  The event of the American Civil War was also diverting attention away from this issue.  But the specter of diseases, such as Yellow Fever, led to the General Quarantine Act of April 23, 1863, which established the office of Quarantine Commissioner, authorized the building of new facilities, and encouraged new procedures for quarantine.

This is where we find ourselves in 1864, the year our envelope is dated.

The Quarantine is dead, long live the Quarantine!

It is at this point that Dr. John Swinburne enters the picture.  The New York State Senate, according the New York Herald on March 20, 1864, indicated that they would approve the appointment of Swinburne to the post of Health Officer for the Port of New York, if Governor Seymour would submit Swinburne's name.  This was done and Swinburne was approved to replace Dr. Gunn at this post with a unanimous vote of approval.

It is at this point that I bring you back to our envelope and remind you of the date it was sent (April 22, 1864) and of the addressee, R.G. Swinburne.  This makes it likely that this letter was written and sent by Dr. John Swinburne just one month after being assigned to the post as Health Officer. 

Apparently, Swinburne's appointment highlighted a rare occurrence (unanimous approval), with Gov Seymour and the New York Senate rarely seeing eye to eye (different political parties).  And, the track record for Dr. Swinburne as Health Officer from 1864 to 1870 provides evidence that his selection was an excellent choice.  The report from the Health Commissioners at the end of 1864 made note of the fact that Swinburne had been left with minimal resources, a leaky hospital ship in need of dire repairs, and no infrastructure to speak of after the 1858 riots.  Yet, his competent leadership resulted in no cases of Yellow Fever escaping the port to infect the city's populace.

Swinburne put in place procedures and facilities that addressed both the need to prevent the spread of disease and to effectively care of those who arrived at port with an illness over the next six years.  The Health Commission found his year-end reports to be so valuable that, rather than presenting the traditional summary, they recommended that the entire report be presented as they "contained much valuable information."

Swinburne Island from Harper's Weekly, Sep 6, 1879

Perhaps one of the most notable accomplishments during Dr Swinburne's tenure as health officer was the creation of two man-made islands that included appropriate hospital facilities to treat those who arrived at port with an infectious illness.  The larger island was named Hoffman Island (after the mayor of New York City and later governor of New York).  The smaller island was initially named East Bank, and then Dix Island - but it was eventually named Swinburne Island.  Swinburne Island was also referred to as "Lower Quarantine" and was completed in 1870.  Hoffman Island was, not surprisingly if you are paying attention, called "Upper Quarantine" and was completed in 1873. Both are now National Recreation Areas and no longer serve as quarantine locations.

How do we know Swinburne sent this letter?

It certainly would be fair to question how I come about making the claim that his letter was sent by Dr. John Swinburne.  So - let's see if I can adequately defend that assertion.

First, the letter is addressed to R.G. Swinburne, care of Ralph Swinburne in Chateaugay, New York (which is near Albany).  Well, if we look at some of the publicly available genealogy material, we find that Swinburne had brothers named R.G. Swinburne and Ralph Swinburne (both older).  Ralph is listed as a lawyer in the 1860 Federal Census for Chateaugay, Franklin County, which gives us a strong family connection for this piece of mail.

So, where does the "Rouse's Point" address come from?  I found Dr. R.E. Swinburne in the National Cyclopaedia of American Biography, vol II, 1892, page 506 (published by the James T White Company in New York). R.E. was Dr. John Swinburne's nephew and the son of  R.G. Swinburne and he lived in Rouse's Point.  The nephew (R.E.) was ten years old at the time this letter was sent, so it is unlikely that this letter was sent to him.  Also, if you look at how the capital "E" in "Esq" is written, you have to conclude that the second initial is not similar.

It makes sense that father and son might leave Rouse's Point for a while to go visit brother and uncle Ralph at Chateaugay and that the good doctor would probably know where to find them - even if he forgot for a moment and started writing out their normal address.

But, here is the icing for the cake.  Take a look at the signature, smeared though it might be, for Dr. John Swinburne below.

from a collection of primary documents - Echols & Arbittier

And now compare that writing to the address panel on the envelope.

Well, folks, I think we've got our man.  It seems pretty clear to me that we do have an envelope addressed by the hand of the current Health Officer for the Port of New York in 1864. 

Bonus Material

Dr. John Swinburne - from biography

It turns out that Dr. John Swinburne lived a life that was worthy of a book, and that book is titled "A Typical American, or, Incidents in the Life of Dr. John Swinburne of Albany," published in Albany, NY in 1888 (Swinburne died in 1889).  If you have interest, you can read this book online.  If you decide to do so, I might encourage you to skip the first chapter, which is more editorial than anything, and begin with the second chapter instead.

If you aren't in the mood for something as long as the book, you can try this condensed summary of Swinburne's life put together by the Friends of Albany History.  Or, I suppose, you can just read on and see what tidbits I pulled out from my own reading.

Swinburne was a fascinating individual.  Much of the reason for the willingness of both political parties to approve his appointment as Health Officer comes from his time serving as a volunteer surgeon during the Civil War.  While that is remarkable by itself, he requested and was given the opportunity to set up at Savage's Station, not far from the lines, so he could establish an aid station that would better serve the sick and wounded.  He remained there, even after the Union's Army of the Potomac retreated and left him behind Confederate lines, where he continued to treat those in his charge.  He was able to gain the cooperation of Stonewall Jackson and treated Confederate and Union soldiers alike.  He advocated for those in his care, making the claim that these people no longer qualified as "belligerents" who should be kept prisoner.  Instead, he claimed they were people in need of medical care, and that mattered more than their military status or allegiance.

After his tenure as Health Officer, Swinburne traveled to Europe, arriving in Paris, France, just prior to the beginning of the Siege of Paris (1870).  While you might be tempted to say that this was bad timing, it turns out that his presence was good timing for many who suffered illness and injury during the siege.  His U.S. Ambulance Corps provided much needed care for those in need over a period of six months.  For his efforts, Swinburne was decorated as Chevalier in the Legion of Honor for the French Third Republic.  He was also recognized for his work by the Red Cross of Geneva.

Swinburne also produced a medical writing titled Treatment of Fractures of Long Bones, by Extension in 1861 and also wrote another on treating gunshot wounds and preparing the patient for transportation. It is said in various reports that Swinburne treated his patients with great care and had a manner that often calmed them regardless of their injury or illness.

Swinburne served as mayor for the city of Albany and was a victim of election fraud and defamation, which led to the resignation of that person when it became clear legal processes would find them responsible.  He also served as a member of Congress for one term, starting in 1885, but lost re-election in another controversial election (only 81 votes separated the two candidates).

Whether you believe Dr. John Swinburne was as good as the author of his biography likes to claim, it is clear that he had many good points.  It would be folly, of course, to believe he was a perfect person.  It is clear that he enjoyed a certain amount of privilege and apparently did not have to worry about finances.  However, I will leave you with this last.

from Friends of Albany site - presumed to be Albany newspaper source

Sometimes we need to take the time to celebrate the truly good things a person has done, whether they live today, or they come from our past. Here's to you, Dr. John Swinburne!

Thank you again for joining me for this week's Postal History Sunday.  Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come.

Telegraphs, Steamships and the Mail - Postal History Sunday

Welcome to 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). 

It's early August and you don't have anything better to do than have a cold beverage of your choice, put on the fuzzy bunny slippers, and stretch out in a comfy chair while you read about something that might just be new to you!

Well - even if you DO have something better to do or if this ISN'T new to you, this Postal History Sunday post is still here for you when you're ready.  It's part of the benefit of asynchronous communication.  And, speaking of types of communication - that's where today's post is taking us!

5 rappen up to 4 loth, rayons 1 & 2 : Jan 1, 1852 - Jun 30, 1862

Today's featured item was mailed in Zurich, Switzerland to Aarau (also in Switzerland) on November 30, 1860.  

This is a blue folded letter sheet with pre-printed content on the inside.  The outside was addressed with a pre-printed label, which is not something I've seen very often from this period in time.  The label was clearly cut from another sheet of paper and glued to the wrapper.  And no, I am pretty sure that they did not have a mail merge program on a computer to help them with the process of creating these labels.

This is another example of "printed matter."  If you'll recall, printed matter could not be sealed - and this item has no wax or other seal on it.  Mail was left unsealed so the postal clerks could check to be sure the rules were followed for the special, lower rates given to this type of mail.  

The printed matter rate was 5 rappen (or 5 centimes) for domestic mail in Switzerland. 

The label states that the contents are a Telegraphic Market Report from Perret, Schutz & Bertsche in New Orleans and Mobile.  The report is mediated or forwarded by Hans Voegeli in Zurich.

The contents, printed on the other side of this piece of paper are in German and are shown below (you can click on the image to see a larger version):

My rough translation follows:

The reports of impending signs in the European money market interacted here, and prices are accordingly (various numbers) the political turmoil in the country is generally very demanding and may have contributed to your results.

We note Liverpool Middling
Freight: to Liverpool
Course: London nominal
Weekly feeds up to and including 60,000 bale today
Sells for the week up to and including 42,000 bales today
shipments of the week: to Liverpool 36,000 bales

The uncertain status of the exchange rate paralyzed the market,and caused further pressure on prices so that they can be regarded as nominal.
The rivers are on the rise and shipping is back in full swing. 

There are all kinds of interesting tidbits of information in this short report that most likely is referencing bales of cotton.  Clearly, the news of the tensions between the states was worthy of mention to all who might be interested in the economic impact.  This letter was mailed Nov 30, 1860 and South Carolina would be the first state to secede from the Union just twenty days later.

In addition to political tensions, limitations to transport of cotton (low river levels on the Mississippi especially) would also be pertinent information to those who might be interested in cotton that came via New Orleans.  Needless to say, if the river levels were low, a fully laden steamboat might not clear the river bottom.

from Ballou's Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion

 

Now, some of you might be curious, as I was, how cotton actually got to the steamships in the first place.  Of course, many bales were loaded at standard river ports.  But, what happens if a fairly steep bluff is between your cotton fields and the river?  Either way, the process of loading large cotton bales onto the paddle wheel steamers on the Mississippi was quite a production.  Sometimes the solution was to build a chute to drop bales from the surrounding bluffs down to the river level.  If you would like to read more, take the link under the picture above and you can read the description in Ballou's Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion.

More to this Story - How the Information Got to Switzerland

I would like to call your attention to two things printed on this item:

1. Telegraphischer Markt Bericht on the front
   
2. per Anglo-Saxon at the top of the market report (letter side of the sheet)
   

The telegraph system in the United States rapidly expanded beginning in the 1840s centering initially around Washington, D.C.  New Orleans was linked into the network as early as July of 1848, when a line via Mobile (Alabama), Macon (Georgia) and Richmond (Virginia) was completed.  The final section of this line was connected between Macon and Montgomery (Alabama).  By the time we reach 1860, when this letter was mailed, there appears to be a second line that runs north towards Natchez (Mississippi) from New Orleans.

Above was an unattributed piece of artwork available for prints by North Wind Press.

The reference to New Orleans and Mobile makes it entirely likely that this market report was initially sent to New York by telegraph on that line.  The message was printed in New York and put into a letter that was sent to Switzerland for Hans Voegeli in Zurich.

At the time this was sent, telegraph services were covered by companies in the "Six Nation's Alliance" of 1857. Essentially, it was an agreement between telegraph companies to allow monopolies for services within the areas each controlled.  By the time we get to 1866 (and the year the trans-Atlantic cable was active), only Western Union remained.

from Thompson, Robert. Wiring a Continent, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1947, p 315.

The letter created for Mr. Voegeli in New York traveled via normal mail services via the mail packet (steamship) Anglo-Saxon.  This ship was an Allen Line steamer that ran from Quebec to Derry (northern Ireland) and Liverpool (England).  Once Mr. Voegeli got this report in the mail he had it printed out, labels affixed, and mailed to his clients using printed matter mailing rates.

And that's how investors and business persons in Europe got the latest news about commodities in the United States in 1860.  Now you know.

Demise of the Anglo-Saxon

photo taken from: "Wreck of the immigrant vessel "Anglo-Saxon" off Newfoundland, April 27, 1863, artist's impression, detail," House Divided: The Civil War Research Engine at Dickinson College

Two and half years later, the Anglo-Saxon was lost in wreck off the coast of Newfoundland (April 27, 1863). The steamer was headed from Liverpool to Quebec when it got lost in a heavy fog.  The ship ran aground in Clam Cove, four miles north of Cape Race.  After hitting the rocks, it rapidly broke apart.  Two hundred thirty-seven of the 445 aboard were lost.  And, as a side note, none of the mail survived the wreck. 

However, I bring this up to point out the many directions a person can take postal history.  If I were inclined to do so and persistent enough to do it, I could hunt for mail carried by the Anglo-Saxon on its last voyage prior to this accident.  I could look for items carried on its first voyage.  I could look for mail items that were sent or received by persons who were known to have survived this accident.  It is possible I could find other items that reference this event as well.  

Postal history - it's an opportunity to explore the stories that interest you as they connect to an item you can have resting in front of you.  That's a big part of what I enjoy about this hobby.

Thank you again for joining me for Postal History Sunday.  I hope you learned something new and stayed cool and comfortable while doing so.  Have a good rest of the day and I hope your coming week treats you well!