By John M. Hotchner

Former member of the Citizens’ Stamp Advisory Committee David Eynon (from 1990 until 2008) was a mentor when I joined in 1998, and remains a friend. He is also an exceedingly well-read person who is forever discovering references to stamps, stamp collecting, and post office practices in out-of-the-way literature.

A recent find is from a book of poetry titled 1916 Oxford, St. Bees and the Front, 1911-1916, by H.B.K. (“Rex”) Allpass, who styled himself “Sometime scholar of Exeter College, Oxford; 2nd Lieutenant, the Essex Regiment”. His photo is shown here.

Sadly, Allpass was one of thousands who perished on the Western Front in 1916, but his poetry was recognized as being of high quality, and was collected and preserved in the named book; published after the War by T. Werner Laurie, Ltd., London.

Among his output is the following poem, written in December, 1913:

The Stamp-Collectors’ Aunt
Oh! List to the tragical lachrymose tale
Of Martha Elizabeth Gamp,
Who received by the post the Philatelist’s Grail
A Royal Timbuctean stamp.
Martha Eliza two nephews possessed,
Each a collector of note:
Herbert Antonio Samuel West
And Fawcett Excelsior Choate.
Now Martha, to ways of collecting unused,
Invited both nephews to tea,
With benevolent simper the stamp she produced
And gave it the cousins to see.
Silent they stood, and beheld in amaze,
And praised in full reverent tone,
And focussed its markings with rapturous gazed
And languished to make them their own.
But rapture yields swiftly to rivalrous lust,
And black importunity’s hate:
Though “I cannot decide,” Martha wept,
“But you must,”
They answered, “or death is your fate.”
Thus urged and insisted and threatened they both
With demands that would not be denied,
Till “Fawcett—–“ she murmured.
Then Bert with an oath
Plunged the cake-knife deep in her side.
“Ah, villain!” cried Fawcett,
“Behold what you’ve done!
O’er this ruin you never shall gloat!”
And swift a resilient bun
He thrust down the cousinly throat.
But Bert ere, asphyxiate, life he resigned,
Arose with the rest of his strength,
And Fawcett he pierced ’twixt the shoulders behind
With the cake-knife’s murderous length.
Thus they died; and below with their issuing gore
The ceiling grew ruddily damp,
As there uttered regretfully down to the floor
That Royal Timbuctean stamp.

∞§∞§∞§∞

The lust of which Allpass speaks is one that every stamp collector can identify with, though the outcome of the story teaches that lust, if indulged, can have a harsh price. May we all remember that stamp collecting is a hobby, not a matter of life-and-death!

My thanks to Dave for re-discovering this gem. Now, let me ask you, dear reader, if you have come upon any instance(s) of philately in older literature – either poetry, stories that relate to the hobby, or quotes that re ect upon its benefits or costs?

If so, I would enjoy hearing of them for possible use in this space; with credit to original author and finder/reporter, of course.

Should you wish to comment on this editorial, or have questions or ideas you would like to have explored in a future column, please write to John Hotchner, VSC Contributor, P.O. Box 1125, Falls Church, VA 22041-0125, or email, putting “VSC” in the subject line.

Or comment right here.