Postmarked

…probably shouldn’t throw stones either.

On a side note, I read today that the original proverb can be traced back to Chaucer’s “Troilus & Criseyde”: Who that hath an hed of verre, Fro cast of stones war hym in the werre!

Hmm, I think I may have something vaguely intriguing for you today. Be warned, though, that this post is about postage stamps.

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Well, diligent reader, let me begin: many of the stamps I have accumulated over the years have been passed on by the few thoughtful folk aware of my philatelic predilection. And so, every now and then one of these kind souls will hand over a few months’ or years’ worth of stamps.

Anyhow, while sifting through one of these packets the other day, I noticed a particularly handsome issue from Éire (Ireland). Dated 1991, the stamp’s subject was a small fishing boat, and the text “LOINGEAS IASCAIREACHTA” was printed along the bottom of the frame (What does that mean? I don’t know). But as the sifting continued, I noticed another copy of the stamp. And another, and — how about that? — yet another.

What caught my interest was not, however, the pretty pictures of boats (although that, typically, is enough to catch my interest); on these speciments, the original sender of the letters had actually written on the inside of the envelope. My leftovers, therefore, contained not only the stamps, but also scraps of correspondence. Here’s an image of the fronts & backs — take a look:

This batch was the first group I noticed, as the typewritten message had bled through the paper envelope, and was clearly visible on the other side. There’s also another batch, written not in type but in cursive hand. These I did not notice until after collecting the typewritten samples — at which point I started examining the backs of the stamps too:

Interesting, hmm? The appeal here, I suppose, is really in the “collected stamp as found art object.” The fragments of text, especially in the first (typewritten) example, are almost poetic. Taken as a whole, this lot is, to me, a curiosity. Why would the sender write directly on the envelope? Is it a paper-saving measure? Why are some typed and others written long- hand? Many more questions too, but of course I’m left guessing. Which is part of the fun, after all.

While sifting through a few envelopes’ worth of stamps, I came across a small number of issues from a place called Ã…land. Naturally, I wonder where the place is. Its stamps all depict fish, boats, or stretches of coastline. Here’s a neat one:

So it was dated around 1994, with what appears to be an interesting postmark, which has value in itself. Could be that if the existing postage was insufficient, the sender would pay a little extra – which would be reflected in the cancellation instead of the postage stamps.

Anyhow, it turns out that Ã…land is “an autonomous, demilitarised, monolingually Swedish-speaking administrative province of Finland. The Ã…land Islands consist of a Main Island, Fasta Ã…land, with 90% of the population, and east thereof an archipelago of more than 6,500 skerries and islands at the entrance to the Gulf of Bothnia” (from Wikipedia). Hmm.

This 1978 issue commemorates the 200^th anniversary of James Cook’s arrival to Canada’s western coast. Interestingly, Captain Cook’s visit was something of an accident; his intended purpose was to find Pacific entry to the Northwest Passage, but inclement weather forced him ashore earlier than he had planned.

Now, the right-hand stamp is a portrait Cook commissioned for his wife. On account of him being away from home so often, he figured it right for her to have something nice to remember him by. It was painted by Nathaniel Dance, and presented to Mrs. Cook not long before her intrepid husband departed on what would be his final voyage.

On the left is an example of artwork produced by the official artists who accompanied Cook on his explorations. This particular painting (depicting Nootka Sound, Vancouver Island) was done by one John Webber.

Some unusual postmarks on a few recently found stamps suggest an interesting history; while the stamps are postmarked with the name “Repulique Populaire du Benin,” a close examination of the heavy stroke of black ink reveals the original country of issue: “Republique du Dahomey.” The values of each stamp are changed too – one is increased (100 to 200F) and the other is decreased (150 to 80F).

Why the change in name? A quick bit of research clarifies the discrepancy, which is in fact rather benign: the Republic of Dahomey changed its name to Benin in 1975. It seems that these stamps were simply modified so that they could be used alongside newer issues which reflected the change of name.

One stamp (at right) commemorates the 1972 Olympics, which took place in Munich. Dahomey/Benin didn’t win a single medal that year. The other stamp (above) features the poet Walt Whitman, though I’m not sure about his connection to Dahomey.