Timing Is Everything - Postal History Sunday

While it is still too cold to do much on the farm, the daylight hours are getting longer and we have seedlings in trays that are striving to look like miniatures of the plants they will become.  Once we approach April, it seems as if everything speeds up at the Genuine Faux Farm.  And yet, here we are, with another Postal History Sunday!

Postal History Sunday is published each week at both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location. 

Not too long ago someone was asking questions about a piece of mail that traveled from the United States to China in the 1860s.  One of those questions is something we can all relate to - even if we aren't really interested in the minute details that a postal historian seems to enjoy getting into.

 "How long did these letters typically take to travel from somewhere, like the United States, to another place, such as China?"

We get to start with a map this time!  If you love maps - there you are!  Feel free to click on the image to view a larger version.

What you see here are the common routes for mail traveling to South and East Asia in the late 1850s to mid 1860s.  The major difference you will see here is that one route, in blue, travels by sea from Southampton (United Kingdom) to Malta and the other, in red, travels overland across France - then goes on to Malta.  

Once we get to Malta, the route is not necessarily distinguishable for the purposes of this blog.  Sometimes, the route went via Bombay and sometimes it doesn't.  Maybe I'll get into that in a future entry.

First, I need to make it clear that transportation in the 1850s to 1870s was rapidly changing.  Rail lines were springing up in Europe, the Suez canal was being built.  Passes were being developed for more rapid transit in the Alps and shipping lines were adjusting as it became clear where the money was in terms of routes and schedules.  Just trust me when I say that transportation companies were not concerned that postal historians in 2023 might have a difficult time piecing things together because they kept changing routes and schedules!

On the other hand, there are all sorts of sources, primary and secondary, that provide opportunities to unearth the most likely schedules and routes that fit items in a postal historian's collection.

Above is a rough schedule that was commonly followed for mails that would have left the United States for destinations in India, Singapore, China and Japan (among others).

Let me show a couple of examples to help provide the answer to "how long did it take for mail to travel from here to there?"

This item shown above was a business letter sent from New York City, in the United States, to Shanghai, China, in 1863.

And here is how it traveled.  Dates in parenthesis are those I can derive from shipping tables and the established China mail schedule.  I put dates that match the mail schedule in BOLD. Other dates correspond to markings that can be found on this letter. 

• New York Jul 25
• Southampton (Aug 6)
  
• London Aug 7 
• Dover (Aug 10)
• Marseilles (Aug 12)
• Malta (Aug 14 arrival and Aug 15 departure)
• Alexandria (Aug 19)
• Suez (Aug 23)
• Bombay (Aug 29)
• Singapore (Sep 13 arrival Sep 14 departure)
       typhoon Sep 20 - 3 day delay
• Hong Kong Sep 23
• Shanghai (Sep 30)
  

Why yes!  They DID have typhoons and hurricanes in the 1800s!  So, even the best laid plans (or schedules) were subject to change.

from The London and China Telegraph, Nov 27, 1863 page 582

There was certainly sufficient ship traffic worldwide that we can find evidence of severe storm events if we know to look for them.  Newspapers that served the English-speaking communities were among those that were very interested in reporting on shipping.  With a minimal amount of looking, I found this contemporary report that gave some evidence for this particular weather event.  I suspect, if I wanted to, I could find additional reports.  But, that might be distracting us from the original intent of this Postal History Sunday!

So, let's look again at the folded letter we were discussing.

Mailed on July 25, 1863, this letter was sent from New York City to Shanghai, China via England, France and the Suez.  It took this item 60 days to get as far as Hong Kong and another 7 days to get to Shanghai.  It took over two months of time for a business letter to arrive at its destination.

The cost to send a simple letter was 53 cents if you chose the option for British Mail "via Marseilles."  This postage fully paid for all mail services to the destination.

So - I now introduce you to another item from the United States to China.

This piece of letter mail was posted in New York City on July 18, 1863 to Shanghai and it also arrived in Hong Kong on September 23 and Shanghai on September 30.  This letter took one week longer to travel the distance from its origin to its destination (74 days).

 

Let me repeat myself here.  THIS letter left Malta on the SAME SHIP that the first letter departed on.  Both letters traveled together from Malta all the way to Shanghai.  The both got to be delayed by the same typhoon.  How cool is that?

 

Ok.  I think it's cool.  You don't have to, I guess.

You should also note that this letter has 45 cents of postage - which was sufficient to prepay all costs to get to Shanghai on the route "via Southampton."

67 days for 53 cents and 74 days for 45 cents.  And the difference has to do with how each letter got to Malta in the first place.

 

Via Southampton

Now we go back to the map showing how mail traveled from the United Kingdom to China at this time.  Let me draw your attention to the blue line that leaves from Southampton and goes by sea - around France, Portugal and Spain until it lands at Malta.  This route is referenced on the second letter where the words "via Southampton" is written at the top left.  You could think of this as the 'slow boat' to China because it took much longer to go from the UK to Malta by boat.

Via Marseilles

The faster alternative is was to cross the English Channel to France and take French railways to Marseilles.  Once at Marseilles, a steamship would take the letter the rest of the way to Malta (that's the red line that goes from Dover to Marseilles and then Malta).

In short - if you wanted to save some money - it looks like you could pay 8 cents fewer for your letter at the expense of 7 days more travel time.  If only it were that simple!

What would you say if I told you that paying 8 cents more did NOT guarantee you a faster delivery of the mail?

Let's look at the chart below again - pay particular attention to Malta's schedule:

Essentially, if you wanted your letter to go via British mail to the countries in the Far East, it was important for you to get it to Malta on the 15th or the 30th/31st of the month.  If your letter got there on the 16th, it was just going to sit there until the next mail departure on the 31st!  Similarly, if it arrived on the 1st, it would wait until the 15th to depart Malta.

If you lived in the United States - it was simpler just to look at the schedule the British put out for mail departures "to India and the Far East."  Four times a month, London/Southampton would make up mails to go to China - the 4th, 10th, 20th and 26th.  If you know that mail crossing the Atlantic typically took around 12 days, your cut off dates would be (approximately) the 8th (to leave by Southampton), 14th (to leave via Marseilles), 22nd/23rd (Southampton) and 28th/29th (Marseilles).

Letter #1

The first letter left New York on the 25th of the month - so if you wanted to get to Malta on the 15th of the next month, you had to take the letter via Marseilles and pay 8 more cents.  If you failed to do this, then your letter would be delayed by at least a week for the next mailing before it even left London, which is the same as a two weeks delay at Malta, regardless of the route it took.

So, really, the sender of the first letter was paying 8 cents to get an item to its destination TWO WEEKS earlier.  If we're talking about letters that took two months to get to their destination, that meant it could be four months before a person received a reply to an important question.  Perhaps paying 8 cents to make that turnaround as short as possible was worth it?! 

Letter #2

The second letter was mailed on July 18th with an arrival in London/Southampton on the 30th.  Well, gosh golly gee!  The next mail in the UK to China left via Southampton.  So, you might as well pay 8 cents fewer, because the extra money will gain you nothing other than a false belief that you will get faster service.

Of course, things were always changing and increased demand for rapid mail services and trade routes necessitated changes over time.  In fact, there were options to send letters to China via French mail and there were times French mail steamers would carry mail in the Mediterranean and in the Far East using different schedules, increasing the options for a mailer.

Plenty for future Postal History Sundays!

The topic of mail between the United States and Asia in the 1800s is a complex and interesting subject.  I will readily admit that there is still much more I could write about and more I could learn.  Perhaps we'll take another run at this topic in the future!  So, if that interests you and you have questions - send them my way and I'll see what I can do with a future entry.  Remember, questions can be simple or they can wade into the complexities.  

You can even say - "I don't get it, could you try again?"  After all, it is Postal History Sunday - and we're all about learning something new.  If I didn't find the right words this time, maybe I can learn the right ones next time.

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

Quiz Key - Postal History Sunday

Another Sunday, another Postal History Sunday is published.  This week, I felt motivated to do something a little different.  As I was considering what this might be, I came across a request that I produce an "answer key" for the questions I posed during the Author's Choice blog I published on January 1st of this year.  For that matter, I posed questions in the prior year's Author's Choice list as well.

Technically, all of the answers are findable by simply taking the links provided there and doing some reading.  But, I get it.  Sometimes you just want to read what's in front of you without following a bunch of strings tied to various points on the internet.  So, let's see where this idea leads us.

But, before we get started - some housekeeping!  Everyone find a favorite beverage and put on your fluffy slippers.  Set your troubles aside and prepare to learn something new.  Postal History Sunday is published each week at both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location.  

And now, for our first question of the day.

This letter crossed the St Georges Channel between which two ports?

Short answer:  

Kingston, Ireland and Holyhead, Wales.   Kingston is now known as Dún Laoghaire.  The Welsh name for Holyhead is Caergybi.

Long answer: 

This letter was mailed on Dec 19, 1865 at Worcester, Mass and it left the next day on a Cunard Line steamship named Asia from Boston.  The Asia landed at Queenstown (Cobh, Ireland) on December 31 where it unloaded this letter in the bag of mail destined for London.  That bag of mail went by train to Kingston and crossed the St Georges Channel to Holyhead.  From there to London, it took railway until it was taken out of the mailbag and marked with the receiving exchange mark.  This letter actually has the distinction of PROBABLY going across the St Georges TWICE because the letter was returned from London and sent back to Worcester, Massachusetts.  

I find things like that to be pretty cool.  But then, I am a strange sort of person - or so I have been told.

The City of Dublin Steam Packet Company were responsible for carrying the mail between England and Ireland, winning their first 10-year contract in 1850.  Their success led to a second contract that began in 1860.  At that point they launched four new steamships named Connaught, Leinster, Munster, & Ulster (after the four Irish provinces).  Much of the mail sent between the United States and England, Scotland, and Wales would have been carried by one of these ships.

Leinster, a print from Royal Museums Greenwich site, viewed 3/18/23

Want to learn more?

The original Postal History Sunday that discussed this cover was published in March of 2021 and can be found here.  This article by Ken Mitchell gives a brief history of the Holyhead and Kingston packets and explores the postal markings that provide evidence of that shipping line's involvement in mail.  And this article by M.J. Tutty in the Dublin Historical Record (Vol 18 No 3, June 1863, pp 80-90) gives more in depth history of the City of Dublin Steam Packet Company.  And this website by Justin Merrigan gives an in depth history of the Port of Holyhead.

What was the purpose of the House of Sailors run by M. John Mayers?

Short answer: 

A Sailor's Home, or bethel, was a chapel - and sometimes a hostel - that was intended for use by sailors whose ships were in port.  M. John Mayers established this House of Sailors to provide for the needs of English-speaking sailors in the port of Marseille.  One of the stated goals of bethels was to see to the moral regulation of sailors while they visited foreign ports.

Long answer:

The author of this particular letter was M. John Mayers, who served as a chaplain in Marseille for the Episcopal Church of England and was the founder of the Sailor's Home in Marseille.  This particular letter was sent to Gardiner Brewer and referenced Brewer's young son, who was staying with Mayers in France at the time.

While the bethel provided food and shelter at reasonable rates (food was often sold at cost), it also concerned itself with the "moral health" of the sailors.  No alcoholic beverages were allowed or served and the idea of providing alternative (and inexpensive) lodging was to save them from the bars and the brothels in the city.  

Rev. M. John Mayers

It is important to note that on most ships the officers and the "common sailor" were certainly of two separate classes.  Officers might have family aboard and would regularly seek out (and be able to afford) better accommodations when in port.  The remainder of the crew were the concern for these facilities that were rapidly proliferating in ports worldwide.

Reverend Mayers was first, and foremost, established as a chaplain for Marseilles and for the ex-Pats who found themselves there.  His primary calling was likely to serve as chaplain for those who were in stations "above" the common sailor.  However, as part of his chaplaincy he took a fundraising trip to the United States to be able to open this home in 1854.

Once the Sailor's Home was opened, the day to day operations were managed by Arthur Canney for the first few years.  If I were to liken Mayers to a present day position, it might be as Executive Director of the bethel.  He provided outreach to potential funding sources and provided a connection to the church administration.

There were numerous such houses worldwide and the Sailor's Magazine, published by the American Seaman's Friend Society provides a useful source.  The society provided funding to many English-speaking bethels and, as such, regularly provided reports that were shared in this magazine.  The following appeared in the June 1855 edition of the Sailor's Magazine.
 

Want to learn more?

This folded letter was first introduced in this Postal History Sunday from May of last year.   The photo and some background about Mayers comes from Jean-Yves Carleur's blog.  This entry from October 2015 was particularly useful.  Carleur also writes a more general post on bethels here.  Another interesting work discusses the "moral regulation" of white sailors in India and provides some background as to why these bethels were established in the first place.

Balloons often carried pigeons out of Paris during the 1870-1 siege.  Why?

Short answer: 

During the Franco-Prussian conflict the city of Paris was surrounded by Prussian troops, cutting the city off from the rest of France.  During this period of time, balloons were used to attempt to take mail (and official or military correspondence) out of the city by flying over the Prussian lines.  Since balloons simply traveled with the prevailing winds, there really was no way to steer them.  A different method to get mail INTO Paris was required.  Homing pigeons were one such method.

And a bit more:

Initially, the homing pigeons were released at the point the balloon landed in order to alert Paris that the balloon had succeeded in crossing the lines. The next step in pigeon-based communications was to return a very limited amount of correspondence written on very thin paper.  More content was sent as the siege continued when microphotography was employed to make content much smaller and lighter.

It even got to the point that the British Post put out an announcement that individuals could, possibly, get mail into Paris via the "pigeon post."  But, you'd better keep that message at twenty words!

British General Post Office notice of November 16, 1870

Want to learn more?

A nice summary that focuses on the microscopy angle of pigeon post is provided here by Ashley Lawrence.  The original question was answered in this Postal History Sunday entry that followed the journey of one piece of balloon mail from Paris.

In what year was the Faxon Squash introduced and made available to gardeners?

In

Short answer:

The Faxon Squash is listed in the Biodiversity Heritage Library as being introduced in 1894.  This advertising cover was mailed in December of 1893 and the designed featuring the newly available squash variety.  

The longer answer:

The longer answer already resides in the original blog, which can be found here.  

Ok, I realize that I added more material that wasn't in the original blogs for my prior answers.  This time around, nothing is coming to me - so we'll just leave it at the short answer!

You did ask for a "quiz key" didn't you?  Well, I've already ruined it because I won't be able to answer them all in today's effort and the ones I did answer I have gone and given you too much information.

Alas!

We'll all just have to muddle on somehow.

Which well-known philosopher called Ferney, France, his home?

Short answer:

If Ferney, the destination of this folded letter, sounds familiar to some of you, you might recognize it better as "Ferney-Voltaire."  The philosopher, Voltaire, purchased the land around the small hamlet of Ferney in 1759.

Longer answer:

At the time Voltaire purchased this area, the settlement could be best described as a hamlet with very little wealth.  The population was under 200 people and the surrounding land was marshy.  Probably not a place most people would think a prominent individual, such as Voltaire, would be attracted to.

Voltaire had left Prussia for Geneva (Switzerland), attracted by the access to publishers and the seeming "spirit of tolerance."  However, his works were soon banned there, as was theater, one of his interests.  He purchased two parcels, one at Ferney and the other at Tournay (both in France, but near the border of Switzerland) to secure his independence.   

Chateau de Voltaire from wikimedia commons

Voltaire transformed the town according to his ideals.  He had the marshes drained, rebuilt the chateau where he lived and supervised the building (or rebuilding) of dwellings, a theater and a church.  He arranged to have roads paved and to get fountains installed.  Businesses to manufacture pottery, tile, silk and watches were developed.  By the 1770s, the town boasted a population around 1000 people.  

Do you want to learn more?

The post that originally illustrated the cover shown above was published in February of 2021 and can be found here.  The organization that maintains the Chateau and makes it available as a historical site has a summary of Voltaire's life if you want to learn about the man.  

Or, if you are like many people (including myself), you recognize the name and might recall that he wrote Candide, but don't hold the significance of the name in the front of your brain, check out this Britannica write up.  

What was the name of the first US warship to traverse the Suez Canal?

Short answer:

The USS Palos was a tug that was refitted as a warship and sent to the Asiatic Squadron in 1870.  This was the first U.S. warship to traverse the Suez Canal on August 11 of that year.

And a little bit more:

Palos was involved in a minor conflict in Korea in May of 1871 and continued to serve, visiting open ocean and river treaty ports, until 1891.  In 1892, the Palos, engines no longer able to propel her, was towed to Nagasaki by the USS Marion and was subsequently sold and scrapped.

The initial Postal History Sunday that featured this cover and USS Palos can be found here.

Painting by Edouard Riou, Inauguration Ceremony of the Suez Canal at Port-Said on 17 November, 1869

Work on the Suez Canal began in 1859 and was funded primarily by French interests.  Concessions by the Egyptian government were needed to allow construction.  The first such concession was granted in 1854 which gave Ferdinand de Lesseps the right to establish a company that would dig the canal.  Fifteen percent of the profits from the endeavor (over a period of 99 years) were to go to the Egyptian government.

I find this historical summary by the Suez Canal Authority to be well-rounded and it avoids some of the Eurocentric versions of Suez Canal history that many sites seem to fall prey to.

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

Well, there you have it.  I think we'll call this Postal History Sunday complete, even if the "key" is not.  I hope you enjoyed parts or all of what was offered here today and that maybe, just maybe, you learned something new - and that made you happy, content, or some other positive emotion (you can pick!).

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

Crossing the Pond and Lighting a Candle - Postal History Sunday

Hello everyone!  I'm glad you were able to find this week's Postal History Sunday, which is published each week at both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location.  Once you are there, all you have to do is scroll down to see earlier content - it's just that easy.

For those of you who do some writing, this question, asked by an anonymous individual, might resonate with you. "Is it hard to find the motivation or the ideas for each week's Postal History Sunday?"  The answer is, of course, sometimes yes and sometimes no.  As far as ideas go, I currently have about fifty different ideas in my notes for future entries.  So, my problem is finding the motivation for a given topic.

Each week things get done one of three ways.  

1. I force myself to write on a topic idea I've already identified for a given day.
2. I write about what currently inspires me, even if it's not already in the idea list.
3. I adapt a topic idea I've identified to my current inspiration.

Often, ideas that fall in category number one will take me weeks or months to write, while things in category 2 can't be predicted - they just happen.  This week's writing falls into category three.  I had it in my idea list to write about how mail crossed the Atlantic Ocean in the 1860s - but there are whole books on this topic.  So, I was waiting for some inspiration as to how to make something work for a single Postal History Sunday.

Clues on a cover

I thought I would start by explaining the clues a person might find on a cover that traveled across "the Pond," or Atlantic Ocean.  Shown above is a folded letter mailed in August of 1867 from New York City to London, England.  If you've been reading Postal History Sunday for a while, you'll recognize the 24 cent stamp and might remember that the cost of postage for a simple letter to the United Kingdom was 24 cents as long as it weighed no more than 1/2 ounce.  If you didn't know or didn't remember - it didn't matter because I told you anyway!

Nice how that works.

When I first started looking at postal history between the US and the UK, I have to admit that directional dockets like this were confusing to me.  In case you are having trouble reading it, this docket reads "City of Paris."

Now, this letter is going from New York City to London.  When I first started looking at postal history, my first thought I would have had was "why in the world would they send this letter through Paris?"  After all, it's not exactly as if Paris is on the way from New York to London, is it?  In fact, I still remember the day I found an old envelope that had the word "Africa" at the top left.  I thought I had found an uncommon letter TO Africa, even though the address panel said it was to London.

Well, it was a relatively common practice for writers of letters to put a docket - usually at the top left - indicating the steam ship or sailing ship that they intended the letter to be carried on as it crossed the Atlantic.  So, the writer wanted this letter to be taken on a ship called City of Paris.  The Inman Line of steamships had several vessels named after major cities, just like the Cunard Line had ships named after countries or continents - steamships with names like Africa.

So, yes.  My excitement for that special letter "to Africa" was pretty short-lived because that was the moment I learned about dockets and ship names.  And yes, I learned this fact because I asked questions and I was a bit skeptical that a letter intended to go to England would go via Africa or end up in Africa without more postage or postmarks.

But, what if this letter didn't have a docket - or what if the docket is incorrect (because it could be)?  How can we figure out which ship carried the letter across the Atlantic?

The exchange office markings for mail from the US to the UK provides us with some clues too!  So, if there is no docket, we can get our start with these markings.  Shown above is the postmark applied by the Foreign Mail Office in New York City.  

The first step of the process to determine which ship carried this letter in the 1860s (until the end of 1867) would be to see if it was carried by a ship under contract with the United States or the United Kingdom.  There are two ways a person can do this.  You can look for a designation that tells us it is an American Packet (Am.Pkt) or a British Packet (Br.Pkt).  This one was carried by a ship that was designated an American Packet.

If there is no packet designation, we can look at the amount of postage to be passed to the British.  This marking tells us that the UK gets three cents, which tells us it is an American Packet.  If the amount credited is a multiple of 3 cents, we have an American packet, if it is a 19 cents (or a multiple thereor), we have a British packet.

Since this letter went by an American packet, we effectively eliminates ships that carried mail for the British (Cunard and Galway*), but it still leaves us with many options (Inman, HAPAG, North German Lloyd, Allan, Havre, French, North American Lloyd / New York & Bremen).

* the Galway Line was not actively carrying mail in 1867, but it did carry mail in the 1863 & 1864.

This is where the date on the exchange markings can help us determine which ship might have carried the letter.  In the United States, the exchange office would typically put the date of the ship's departure in the exchange marking.  So, it is possible that the letter was being postmarked on August 23, but an August 24 postmark was used to indicate the ship's date of departure.

August 24, 1867 was a Saturday, and that was a big day for steamships with US mail contracts to depart New York.  On this particular Saturday, a ship from the HAPAG Line was carrying mails to the German States, another with the French Line took the mail to France and the Inman Line had a ship carrying mails for the rest of Europe (including the United Kingdom).  The ship for the Inman Line just happens to be the City of Paris.

It sure is nice when things match up!

We actually have another clue that can help us with identifying ships, and that's the receiving exchange marking applied in London.  Sometimes, when we look at an old cover, there won't be a readable docket and the United States exchange marking may not have a readable date.  That leaves us with trying to identify when the letter was taken OUT of the mailbag in the United Kingdom.  If we know that, we can work backwards by matching it up with the arrival of ships that carried the mail.

from page 211 of North Atlantic Mail Sailings: 1840-1875 by Hubbard and Winter

It just so happens that the excellent work by Dick Winter and Walter Hubbard provides the dates for many mail sailings.  These were gleaned from period newspapers and other primary sources and my interest in this area is, in part, due to their efforts.  I could confirm these dates by hunting in online sources like the New York Times, but instead I will gratefully accept the efforts of other postal historians.

The good news continues.  The last row of this table shows the City of Paris departing New York on August 24 and arriving at Queenstown (Ireland) on September 3.  These dates line up properly with both exchange markings - so we have our ship for crossing the Atlantic!

Inman Line's City of Paris circa 1866 - from Wikimedia Commons

The Inman Line (formally known as Liverpool, Philadelphia and New York Steamship Company) was headquartered in Liverpool and ships were registered under the British flag.  The contract they held in the 1860s for carrying the mail, however, was with the United States - hence we refer to them as American Packets for the purposes of mail carriage.

Inman was exceptional that the line pushed new technologies, such as iron hulls and screw propellers as opposed to the wooden hulled, paddle wheels that were setting the speed records at the time.  Initially, this new technology was slower, but they required much less coal - allowing for more space for cargo and passengers.  With the launch of the City of Paris, improved screw propulsion technology resulted in a ship that could keep up with the Blue Riband (fastest Atlantic ships) holder, Cunard Lines Scotia, which was a paddle wheeler.

To complete the circle on this particular letter, there is one more postmark that is located on the back.  The London post office in the southern district (London - S) sent the letter to be delivered by a carrier on September 4, the same day it was taken out of the mailbag in the London Foreign Letter Office.

Bonus material - Fun with dates?

I am fortunate this time around to have some of the contents of this piece of mail to go with the exterior "wrapper."  And, if you'll recall, I mentioned that is was possible that the New York Foreign Mail office had this letter in their possession on August 23, but they still put an exchange marking on the letter for August 24 - to reflect the date of departure for the City of Paris.

First, I suspect some of you have noticed and have been waiting for me to say something about the upside down date.  The device used to put this marking on letters had a removable date slug.  The postal clerk could remove the center and insert a new date as needed.  Sometimes, that slug didn't get put in correctly.  The result would be a date that is upside down as compared to the rest of the marking.

Hey, if you had to handle as much mail as these people did, I suspect you might have trouble figuring which end was up sometimes too!  Or, some of the clerks had my sense of humor, they might have done this once in a while just because they could.

And, here is the letter itself.  The date at the top is, in fact, August 23, 1867.  So, it is not just possible, it is likely, that this letter was received at the post office on Friday, August 23, 1867.

More Bonus Material - J.C. & J. Field

This letter was mailed by an individual in New York who was serving as a purchasing agent of raw materials for the company J.C. & J. Field, located in Lambeth Marsh (on Upper Marsh Road), London. As is often the case, it can be hard to decipher the writing in a letter.  This is especially true if you are not familiar with key words that reference particulars of a business or are colloquialisms of the time.  I did notice the word "beeswax" towards the bottom, but I was having trouble with some of the rest.

Happily, I was able to find some period advertising for this business that helped me to figure out some of those keywords! 

1864 ad from Grace's Guide, viewed Mar 9, 2023

J.C. & J Field made soap and candles according to this 1864 advertisement.  This makes beeswax a logical purchase by their agent on their behalf.  Although, it is interesting to note that the ad mentions "paraffine" candles.  And sure enough, when I re-read the letter, I see that the agent is talking about a bid that was made for 20,000 pounds of paraffin.  They also note, at the bottom of this letter, some current price levels for other products of interest including

London Society Magazine that held ad above

    "Spermaceti...priced 42 cts at which price last sales were made"

and 

    "Beeswax without change 40ct 42"

All of these products would makes sense for a purchasing representative in New York City to be considering for their clients who made soap and candles in London.

Are you wondering what spermaceti is?  I was too. So, I did a little looking.

During the 1860s, candles were made with a wide range of raw materials.  The cheapest, and lowest quality, option was to make tallow candles.  Tallow (animal fat) candle smoke often left a sooty residue and had an unpleasant odor.  These candles melted easily and required that the user regularly trim the wick.  To make matters worse, the light quality was often poor.

Paraffin is a by-product when petroleum is distilled.  This resource was clearly much less expensive if prices were in the 20 to 24 cent range versus beeswax and spermaceti that commanded nearly twice the price.  Paraffin was a bit more brittle, but the candles burned much slower than tallow and provided a less expensive option to beeswax.  Beeswax, on the other hand, would be a preferable product for quality candles.

Spermaceti, or whale oil, was another high-end option for the production of quality candles.  Made from oils collected from the head of Sperm Whales, these candles burned brightly and odor free. 

If you would like to read a bit more about candles and candle making during the 1860s, I found this site titled Women, Remedy and Herbs of the Civil War to be clear and concise.

1867 ad from The Archer's Register, viewed at this location 3/11/23

The Field family had a long history as wax and tallow chandlers and this particular business was founded in 1642 in Lambeth Marsh.  The map below shows Lambeth Marsh situated next to the River Thames in the 1200s according to this source (Vauxhall, the Oval and Kennington).  In the 1860s, this area would be clearly within the South London postal district.

J.C. & J. Field maintained their factory on Upper Marsh, a road in Lambeth Marsh, but they also held a location north of the river at 12 Wigmore Street for a period of time.  According to this resource (London Street Views), they may not have continued at Wigmore Street into the 1860s - though they maintained the Lambeth Marsh location until J.C. and J. Field was eventually absorbed by other businesses in the 1940s.

ordinance survey map 1892-5 from this blog

By the time we reach the 1890s, the area of Lambeth Marsh was fully developed and the Field's factory had become a sprawling affair.  You can see it near the center of the map shown above (and not far from the London & South Western Railway tracks).  The Upper Marsh road is north and west of the factory.

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Well, that's what I've got for you this week.  I hope you enjoyed this foray into postal history and some of the surrounding social history that came with it.  Have a fine remainder of your day and an excellent week to come.

Stream of Consciousness - Postal History Sunday

Once again, we reach either the seventh or the first day of the week (you get to pick which calendar approach you prefer).  As has been the case for the 132 weeks prior to this one, Postal History Sunday has made its appearance on both the Genuine Faux Farm blog and the GFF Postal History blog.  If you are interested in prior entries, you can view them, starting with the most recent, at this location.

Postal History Sunday started as a pandemic project in an effort to reach out to others, hopefully providing a chance to explore new things and counter the feelings of isolation many were feeling.  Today, PHS is still a place where I share something I enjoy (postal history) and the purpose is the same as it was when I started.  I like to learn and I enjoy facilitating learning - and it is nice to feel the connection with others that comes as a result.  

I welcome everyone here, regardless of your knowledge level or interest level with respect to postal history and the related social history that often comes along for the ride.  It is my intent to write in a way that is accessible to all and encourages you (and me) to learn something new each week.

Put on the fuzzy slippers, tuck those troubles away for a while, and grab a favorite beverage.  It's time for Postal History Sunday!

This week, I was spending some time organizing scanned image files and making copies of those files in different file formats.  When I scan an image, I prefer to put those images into a format called a TIFF file.  However, when I want to share images, it makes sense to make a copy using JPEG format to make the files smaller.  As I went through these processes I found myself thinking about some of the covers and decided following my thoughts as I did the work would be an interesting way to do this week's blog.

Shown above is an 1867 folded letter that was sent from Amsterdam (the Netherlands) to Bordeaux (France).  The postage at top left totals 30 Dutch cents, which properly paid the postal rate between these two nations (Apr 1, 1852 - Mar 31, 1868).

The originating post office needs some method to let the postal clerks and postal offices down the line know whether or not postage was fully paid, part paid or not paid at all.  This particular item is interesting because it shows us both the French and German preferences to indicate that an item was fully paid to the destination.

Franco

P.D. - Payee a Destination

The Dutch post office preferred to mark their postage stamps with the word "Franco," which accomplished two things, it defaced the stamps so they could not be reused AND it told postal people both in the Netherlands and outside the country that they considered postage to be paid.

The French, on the other hand, preferred the "P.D." marking and frequently included language in their postal agreements that such a marking needed to be present to alert their clerks that postage was paid.  Since this letter traveled between the two nations, we get the treat of seeing both styles on one letter.

I came across this next item after I had my musings about the first cover.  It caught my attention because of the way the "franco" is depicted here.  Do you see it?

This letter was mailed in Saxony, one of the German States and a member of the German-Austrian Postal Union.  All members of GAPU were able to treat mail between members as if it was internal mail.  This eliminated the need for exchange offices and many of the procedures that were typically required for mail between different postal systems.  

In fact, members of GAPU didn't really require that "franco" or "P.D." appear on mailed items.  It was good enough to see the postage stamp and no markings indicating that postage was due. 

Still, a person sending a letter often felt the need to make it clear that they HAD paid for the letter!   This marking was clearly written in the hand of the person who addressed the envelope.  They added the letters "fco" at the bottom left to represent the word "franco."

Part of what got me to thinking about this was a comment by Mohamed N on Richard Frajola's discussion board asking about a script marking that looked like it said "foo."

Here's a cover that was mailed in Bavaria (also a member of GAPU).  If you look at the blue marking at the lower left, you will see some hand writing that DOES look a bit lit "foo."  It is, in fact, "fco" for "franco" once again.

As a person who has a background in software engineering, I have to admit that the first time I saw script markings like this, I was a bit surprised that foo was being used.  There have been many times that I have looked at programming code and found variables named "foo" and "bar."  It wasn't until I asked German postal historians (thank you Ralph and Tim) about this a few years ago that I realized I was missing the point entirely.

This got me to thinking about all of the things in postal history and philately (stamp collecting) that I would have missed if it weren't for others sharing what they know in one fashion or another.

Here is an 1863 folded letter that started in Livorno, Italy, and traveled to Malta as its final destination.  A postage stamp representing the payment of 40 centesimi for a simple letter weighing no more than 7.5 grams appears at the top left and a "P.D." marking indicates that the letter is considered paid in full.

That's all interesting enough, but it's actually the neat words written in pencil at the top that caught my notice.  "Doppia effigie" which translates to "double effigy."  This was clearly written by a previous collector or dealer to alert future members of the hobby that something else is going on that might be easy to miss.

And, on the back is further information in pencil - this time in English.  "Sardinia, double emboss."

First of all, I am not a fan of any additional collector notations on the front of an item.  So, I would have preferred to see that first notation on the back.  Second, if there are to be notations, they need to be brief, accurate and applied lightly in pencil.  Why pencil?  Because sometimes the notations aren't entirely accurate and new information might uncover that fact.  I have also been dismayed to find covers that had so much writing on them by a collector or dealer that some of the original postal markings that tell the story of the item are endanger of being covered up.

With that aside... here is what both of these notations were trying to get us all to look at.

On this particular issue of postage stamp, the image of Victor Emmanuel II (King of Italy at the time) was embossed onto the stamp rather than printed in ink.  Embossing simply means the image was impressed into the paper by pushing the design into it.

The notations are telling us to look for TWO images of Victor Emmanuel's head on this stamp.  Do you see them?

I took a moment and changed the image to black and white and enhanced the image to show the raised edges that would be Victor Emmanuel's head.  When this stamp was going through the embossing process, it must have gone through twice - or something happened to get the top of the head to appear twice here.  I will not claim to be an expert on how these stamps were embossed, so I'll leave it at that.  Perhaps someone can fill me in and I can include the details later.

This got me to start thinking about things I still hope to learn more about.  Which led me to this cover:

When I first picked this item up, I figured it to be a simple letter between two locations in Portugal.  But, it turns out that Porto (or Oporto) is in Portugal and Villagarcia is in northwestern Spain.  

Normally, I would be looking at clues like the French "P.D." or the German "Franco" to alert me to the fact that the letter crossed borders.  Well, there is no such thing on the front of this letter, but it turns out the answer was in front of me the whole time.

The docket at the top left reads "Hespanha," which would be Portuguese for "Spain."  

This is one of the beautiful things about the postal history hobby.  If you allow yourself to explore areas away from your home or outside your comfort area, you can be reminded that for all of our similarities, there are differences, and for all of our differences, there are similarities.

It is also a good reminder to me that it is absurd for me to think that I should automatically know anything if I have never experienced it before.  How should I expect to know that the letters on an envelope were "fco" and not "foo" and how would my brain pick out the word "Hespanha" and know that referenced the land I recognize as "Spain" unless I give myself an opportunity to learn these things?

So, how did I learn that this word was "Hespanha" in the first place?

It started on the back of this folded letter. You can see the following markings that tell the story of the travels this letter took:

• Porto, Portugal - Sep 2
• Valenca, Portugal - Sep 3
• Tui, Spain - Sep 3 or 4
  
• Villagarcia, Spain - Sep 4

First of all, it seemed odd to me that an internal letter in Portugal would require so many transit markings on the back.  I suppose it could be possible that the Portuguese were more concerned with tracking their mail than the French - but I didn't think that was the case.  I found it more likely that the extra markings had to do with the exchange process of mail between two postal services.  So, I started doing some map searching and this is what I found.

Valenca and Tui are both very near the border between Portugal and Spain, so they were clearly a good place for mail to be exchanged between countries.  The other clue was that the Villagarcia postmark reads "Villagarcia Pontevedra."  Pontevedra is a province in Galicia, which is northwest Spain.  So, my salvation came with some knowledge of geography and a willingness to explore period maps.  It had much less to do with language.

But, once I realized this was destined to leave Portugal, that roused my suspicions that the docket must have something to do with telling the postal service in Portugal more about the destination.  And that brings us full-circle back to Hespanha.  Now that we all have access to translation software, I was able to do some exploring to find my answer.

And there you are!  This is where my mind wanders as I do a simple organizing task.  This probably explains why one of my favorite sayings is "thinking is a dangerous pastime."

Thank you for joining me for this week's Postal History Sunday.  I hope you enjoyed today's entry and that maybe you learned something new.  Have a great remainder of your day and a fine week to come!