A Sense of Fun - Postal History Sunday

This week's Postal History Sunday is being written "on location" at Chicagopex, an annual event held in (surprise!) Chicago every November.  The name "Chicagopex" is a combination of the city name and a shortening of "Philatelic EXposition" or PEX and it is a three-day event where philatelists (stamp collectors) and postal historians gather.  There are opportunities to buy and sell items, chances to view interesting exhibits of material, and time to chat with others who have similar or related interests.

I was enjoying my time at the show, but there was a low-grade worry niggling at my brain as Saturday progressed.  What was I going to do for Postal History Sunday this week?  I'd started a few things, but none were so close that they would be an easy finish.

item in John Hornbeck's exhibit

Then, as I was looking at an exhibit that focused on a specific type of Dutch postmark called a "point cancellation," I saw a cover from a town called Sneek.  While the name is pronounced to sound more like Snek, I still can't help myself but read it as an American might (sneek).  And that's when I started considering my sense of fun.

After all, if my mispronunciation amuses me and then gets me to look a little longer at Dutch point cancels - why not?  And the good news is that there was some nice postal history from the 1860s in that exhibit that caught my interest too.

 

For example, here is an item that might make a nice "Merry Chase" PHS entry.  It was mailed from Amersfoort in the Netherlands to Florence.  It looks like Milano (Milan) and Venezia (Venice) were also part of its travels.  This is the sort of thing that is often "fun" for me.  But what is fun for me may not be the main interest for someone else.  In this case, John Hornbeck focuses on those cancellations, postmarks that were used to show that a stamp was used to pay the postage.

from Chip Gliedman's exhibit

 Here's a different sense of fun that might be understood by a broader range of the population (unless more people than I think like the "Sneek" angle).  How about a piece of mail that was salvaged from the wreck of the Hindenburg?  

Yeah. That wreck.

While there is nothing actually fun about the disaster and the loss of life that came with it, there is something amazing about seeing, in person, an artifact that survived the crash.  It's the sort of amazing thing that most people can relate to.

from Omar Rodriguez's exhibit

Postal history and philately covers a lot of territory and those who enjoy it can approach it from all sorts of directions.  The first postage stamp issue for Mexico was overprinted with the name of each district and it could be an interesting challenge to see if a person could find an example from each district.  Including Tabasco.

And yes, tabasco sauce used a pepper that originated from this region as a principle ingredient. 

from Jim Mazeppa's exhibit

Sometimes, philatelists and postal historians pick different ways to focus on what they study and collect.  We can focus on cancellations, geographic regions, time periods or maybe a specific postage stamp issue.

The Overrun Countries issue of 1943 and 1944 featured the flags of countries overrun by the Axis powers.  As a young collector, this was a series that I hoped to complete some day.  So, of course, I can't help but appreciate seeing a whole exhibit featuring that series.

And when you focus on some smaller portion of philately or postal history, a person can dig into all kings of details.  For example, the process of printing these bi-color stamps could result in some flaws in the printing.  Shown above are examples where the red ink was doubled, making it look blurry.

from the exhibit of Charles O'Brien

And that brings me to another way to have fun with philately and postal history.  We can look at ways where things went... well... wrong.

If the paper being used to print a postage stamp was folded at the time it was run through the printer, it left an unprinted area when (and if) it is unfolded.  Stamp printing processes typically had good quality control processes, but enough are printed that errors sometimes find their way into the wild.  Some people enjoy the hunt for things that are different because there were errors in the production process.

from John Hotchner's exhibit

Speaking of things that didn't quite go as intended.  There are people who enjoy tracking down forgeries of postage stamps.  Sometimes, those forgeries can be found on a cover that someone actually tried to use a forged stamp to pay the postage.  

In the case above, the attempt was not successful and the Postmaster at the town of mailing contacted the Postal Inspector.

from Hugh Sebag-Montefiore's exhibit

 

And sometimes, you can have fun by exploring reasons for odd things like - why is Napoleon frequently featured with one hand tucked into his clothing at his stomach?  Apparently, it was a way to symbolize "gentlemanly restraint" and was often associated with nobility.  It wasn't because he bit his fingernails and it left them unsightly and distracting to look at.  And it probably wasn't because he had a perpetually upset stomach. 

And, hey, have a little fun. Pick your own absurd or not so absurd reason why it was important for Napoleon to conceal one hand while being painted.  But, I do think the idea that it was a way to cultivate an image of nobility and power was certainly consistent with his ambitions.

My own sense of fun

Frankly, I found myself enjoying just flitting around the exhibits, taking an image of things that just popped out at me for whatever reason.  And, once my attention was grabbed by something in an exhibit, I allowed myself the opportunity to try to appreciate what made the topic fun for the person who was sharing their efforts with all of us.  I found myself appreciating the work of all who put together their materials to build a display - even if the topic or approach was not something I would want to do myself.

After all, my own sense of fun often tends toward rate and route puzzles like this one that was posed to me at the show by someone else.

This particular item is a cover front (the back has been cut off - and maybe some of the sides have also been reduced).  But ,there are four, 5-cent stamps and a single 1-cent stamp from the US 1861 postage series.  The color of the five cent stamps is known as "buff" and is an uncommon color to find in this condition on a piece of postal history.  And that's probably one of the biggest reasons a philatelist would like it.

But, what about a postal historian?

This is not a typical example of a letter sent from the United States to Switzerland in 1862.  There is a lot of different stuff going on and there was some question as to whether there was any reasonable explanation for how it all hangs together.  We even have to consider if it doesn't hang together!  And if that's the case, we have to decide if that means it's been altered in a way that its value as a postal history item was in question.

And here's where I make you all shake your heads and wonder what in the world is wrong with me.  How can ANYONE possibly enjoy looking at an old, messy, piece of paper and think it would be fun to decipher and determine as much as they possibly can about it?

Well, that's the thing about a person's sense of fun.  It doesn't have to make sense.  It just has to be fun for that person.

This letter was mailed at the post office in Hallowell, Maine (located south of Augusta), and postmarked on May 27, 1862.  From there, it traveled to Boston, which served as a foreign exchange office for mail to France.  Yes, Boston was an exchange office for other locations, but I opted to say France because that's where this item was originally addressed.

The address panel reads: G.D. Gelman, Esq, care of John Munroe and Co, Bankers in Paris, France.

The Boston exchange marking says: Boston, May 28, Paid 24

This corresponds with the departure of the Cunard Line ship Niagara on that same day.  It crossed the Atlantic Ocean and arrived in Queenstown (Cobh, Ireland) on June 8.  The "Paid 24" indicated that 24 cents needed to be passed to France for their share of the postal expenses.

And that's our first indication that something might be amiss here.  There's only 21 cents in postage on this cover.  With the "Paid 24" marking and a letter addressed to France, we should expect 30 cents in postage to pay for a double weight letter from the US to France using the 15 cents per 1/4 ounce rate.

Shown above is another cover with 30 cents in postage sent from New York to France in 1866.  It clearly shows a "Paid 24" credit in the New York exchange marking.  It too, was carried on a Cunard Line steamship across the Atlantic.

The red double circle marking is French (dated June 10), and the red box marking that reads "P.D." tells us that the French considered this letter paid in full.  So, now we have both Boston and the French postal clerks declaring this letter paid.  That tells me there was likely 30 cents paid... somehow... for this item.  Maybe the extra nine cents were paid in cash.  Maybe there were some stamps on the back (which is now missing).  We can't know for certain.

But here's where it gets really interesting!

John Monroe and Company served as a forwarding agent for travelers.  They remailed this letter to a new address in Interlaken, Switzerland.  The two black Paris marks indicate that it was remailed and no additional postage was provided.  Instead, there are two "40" markings on the cover that indicate to us that 40 Swiss centimes would be due at the point of delivery.

It just so happens that the postage rate for a letter from France to Switzerland in 1862 was 40 centimes per 7.5 grams at the time. Shown above is an 1865 letter from France to Switzerland that was short paid (and treated as unpaid).  It too, shows us the red "40" marking to indicate 40 centimes must be collected on delivery. So that also matches up - another good sign.

So let's review for a second.

The US to France rate was 15 cents per 1/4 ounce which is about 7.1 grams.  This letter was sent as a double weight letter from the US to France, which means it weighed more than 7.1 grams.

The Swiss rate for an unpaid letter from France was 40 centimes per 7.5 grams.  Which means this letter weighed no more than 7.5 grams.

Yes, sometimes you can get that precise if there are enough clues.  Fun for me.  Maybe it makes no sense for you.  But remember, my sense of fun only really needs to be fun for me!

So, that leaves us with a question.  The 21 cents in postage appear to have been purposely placed on this letter, even though it ended up being the incorrect amount. So, we need to answer the question - why would someone so badly miss the payment amount for a letter addressed to Paris France?

One theory that seems to fit:

The sender in Hallowell knew G.D. Gelman was traveling and that the itinerary placed them in Switzerland by the time the letter got to Europe.  Knowing this, they put postage on the letter for the 21 cent per 1/4 ounce rate to Switzerland.  But, they only knew to send the letter to the forwarding agent in Paris...

Upon presenting this at the post office, the sender was informed that not only was the letter overweight, they could only pay the postage to France because the letter was ADDRESSED to France.  At that time, it looks like this person paid cash OR additional postage was placed on the reverse of this cover (which is now missing).

The letter got to Paris and was recognized as paid in full, but then had to be remailed, postage due.

The back of the cover probably had one or two Swiss markings and maybe one or two French markings.  I am guessing it had a Paris receiving marking for its arrival in Paris on the 10th.  I suspect it might have had a French rail transit marking from Paris to Bale (Basel). The Swiss markings might have been a Swiss rail exchange/transit marking and a receiving mark at the destination.

A second theory that might fit is that the letter was intended to be sent via British Open Mail on an American Packet (steamship), but through some series of errors it went on the British Packet and was treated as fully paid.  In my mind, the first theory seems to fit better.

Well, if you made it this far, good for you!  I appreciate your willingness to tolerate my sense of fun for a little while.  

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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.