Free The Chalon Heads by Barry Maitland Page B

monarch’s head, and that goes right back to the penny black. The design of that stamp was based on a side-profile portrait of Queen Victoria, which was engraved by William Wyon for a medallion struck when Victoria came to the throne in 1837.
    ‘Now in that same year the artist Alfred Edward Chalon also made a portrait of the young Queen. He sketched her standing in her robes of state on the grand staircase of the House of Lords on the occasion of her first visit there, and from this sketch he painted three versions of a full-length portrait. One went to the Queen herself, another to the King of Prussia, and the third to the King of Portugal.’
    ‘Portugal?’ Brock said, glancing at Starling, who appeared not to hear. ‘That’s interesting. And that portrait was the basis of the Chalon Head stamps?’
    ‘That’s right. Instead of a profile portrait like the Wyon penny black design, it shows, as you know, the Queen’s head and shoulders almost frontally as she turns to view something off to her right. It was never used for a British stamp, but as colonies around the Empire began to bring out their own stamp designs, the Chalon portrait proved to be a favourite with a number of them. In all, eleven colonies produced Chalon stamps, beginning with Canada and Nova Scotia in 1851.
    ‘The Canadian post offices were part of the British system until that year, when they first issued their own stamps—the threepence beaver design, sixpence portrait of Prince Albert, and twelvepence Chalon Head of Queen Victoria. These new stamps were designed by a young Scotsman who had emigrated to Canada a few years before. He went on to become chief engineer to the Dominion government, and responsible for the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway. And his name was Sandford Fleming.
    ‘And so now we arrive at lot fifteen. Here is our young Sandford Fleming, temporarily separated from his wife, he in Montreal, she in Toronto. It is her birthday. He decides to send her a letter, using a first print from the first plate of his new high-value stamp. We have the letter, dated the fourth of June 1851. But note this . . .’ Melville leaned forward to emphasise his point. ‘The twelvepence black was not released for public use until the fourteenth of June. And, moreover, the stamp that was then released was different from the one Fleming had sent to his wife ten days before. The principal difference was in the corner numbers, which in his version, as you can see in the catalogue picture, were black figures on a white ground, like the corner letters in the British penny black. But in the final version, which came into general circulation on the fourteenth of June, they were reversed to white figures on black ground.’ Melville sat back, eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘So there you have it, the sole example of a stamp which no one knew existed and on a cover addressed by its designer, himself a notable historical figure. The first Chalon Head!’
    There was a moment’s silence as they waited to see if he had finished. Then the document expert, Bert Freedman, rubbed his hand across his bald head and said, ‘Fascinating.’
    ‘Have I misread this bit here in the catalogue, Mr Melville?’ Brock asked. ‘The estimated value. It looks like £450,000.’
    ‘That’s right, though really it’s impossible for us to put an accurate figure on it because it is absolutely unique. Ever since its discovery there has been tremendous interest— from Canadian collectors especially, of course, but also right around the globe. Undoubtedly it will attract keen bidding, possibly a record sum.’
    ‘Do stamps fetch that kind of figure?’
    ‘Oh, indeed, yes. The highest sum paid so far for a philatelic item was for a cover rather like this—’
    ‘A cover being an envelope?’ Brock queried.
    ‘An envelope with the original stamp on it—that’s the term we use. It was for a cover of 1847 bearing both the penny red and the two penny blue stamps