Robert A. Siegel Auction Galleries, Inc.

"...and my heart stood still"

Back to table of contents for Sale 901

Introduction by Joe R. Kirker

 

According to Caroline Robey, her husband William was always the lucky one. Then 29 years old, he was earning a modest income as a cashier for the W. C. Hibbs Company in Washington D.C. and, as an avid stamp collector, was anxious to acquire a full sheet of the newly-issued airmail stamp that had gone on sale the day before, May 13, 1918.

The 24¢ stamp was prepared for the airmail service between Washington, New York and Philadelphia, to begin on May 15, 1918. The patriotic red, white and blue stamp paid the new 24¢ airmail rate, which included 10¢ for special delivery to the addressee.

Pre-event publicity about the new airmail service prompted collectors and non-collectors to prepare cards and covers for the first flights. These were historic events, and William Robey wanted stamps to send to himself and friends as mementos.

However, as a philatelist he was also aware of a potential printing error that, remote as it might be, could provide a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for discovery and reward. On May 10, before the stamps went on sale, Robey had written to his friend and fellow collector, Malcolm H. Ganser, stating, “It might interest you to know that there are two parts to the design, one an insert into the other, like the Pan-American issues. I think it would pay to be on the lookout for inverts on account of this.”

The table had already been set for the feast William T. Robey would soon enjoy. The Bureau of Engraving and Printing was under tremendous pressure from wartime production of Liberty Loan bonds, currency and myriad other documents. The growing demand for more “doughboys” to be sent “over there” had reduced the number of skilled civilian workers. 

 

Contemporary photograph of the New York Avenue
branch post office in Washington D.C., where William
Robey made his purchase of the Inverted “Jenny” sheet.
This photo appears in
Ward’s Philatelic News, March 1931,
with a note by Philip H. Ward that Robey himself took the 
photo “at our request.”

The 24¢ airmail rate established for the new service could not be prepaid by any one of the stamps in circulation. By early May 1918, time was running short to completely design, produce and deliver the distinctive new 24¢ stamp for use on airmail letters.

Adding to all of the existing pressure on the Bureau was the Post Office Department’s desire for the new issue to be printed in two colors. This requirement forced the Bureau to print the stamps on the older “Spider” press with a 100-subject flat plate.

Two separate passes through the press were required to complete the red and blue design. Sheets were printed with the frame designs, then placed in a stack by the assistant. After the sheets were printed with the frames, the vignette plate was put on the press for the second pass.

Each impression on the press required several steps. First, the plate was removed from the press and heated to improve the ink application. After inking, the plate was carefully wiped by the pressman so that ink only remained in the recessed lines of the engraving. A damp sheet of paper was then placed face down on the plate, and the wheel was turned to apply tremendous pressure, which forced the paper into the engraved lines of the plate. The printed sheet was then removed from the press and stacked face down (an important point to remember).

The two-stage, multi-step printing method created the opportunity for the second impression to be made upside down relative to the first. As Robey’s May 10 letter proves, he was well-aware of the potential for an invert and hopeful that he might be the lucky discoverer at the post office on May 14.

No one is exactly sure how the Inverted “Jenny” occurred. Interviews with Bureau employees suggest two possibilities. During the process of removing and preparing the plate for each impression, the pressman could have accidentally rotated the plate 180 degrees from its usual position on the press. The other possibility is that the assistant, who stacked the sheets face down, turned the Invert sheet around 180 degrees before the blue vignette was printed.

Once the sheets of 100 were printed, 10 by 10 with sheet margins all around, they had to be gummed, perforated and trimmed on two sides to make them the correct size for packaging and distribution through post offices. The First Printing sheets, including the Invert error, were consistently trimmed at the top and right, which cut off the plate numbers 8492 and 8493 in the top margin. All First Printing sheets have straight edges at the top and right. The intact left sheet margin contains a guide arrow, and the bottom sheet margin contains an arrow and the initials “S De B”, belonging to Samuel DeBinder, the siderographer (or transferrer), who laid down transfers on the plate.

Although the Bureau inspectors were extremely careful in detecting misprints, one sheet of Inverted “Jenny” stamps was sold at the post office and eight other sheets were reported found and destroyed (from a statement by the director of the Bureau to Philip H. Ward). It was William Robey’s great fortune to be in the right place at the right time.

By May 13, 1918, enough sheets of the 24¢ had been produced for initial delivery to the Post Office Department and on to Washington D.C.’s main post office. The next day, May 14, they would become available at five locations. The New York Avenue branch was the closest to William Robey’s office.

Having withdrawn $30 from his bank account, Robey entered the New York Avenue branch mid-morning, but, by several of his own slightly conflicting accounts, he did not purchase any copies of the new stamp. He chose to return later, just after noon, as additional sheets were expected to be delivered by then. Apparently the same clerk was on duty, and, as told in Robey’s 1938 account for Weekly Philatelic Gossip, “The clerk reached down under the counter and brought forth a full sheet and my heart stood still. It was the sheet of inverts.”

Without hesitation, except perhaps for that instant when he realized the amazing fortune being offered to him, Robey handed the clerk $24 for the sheet. He requested additional sheets and was shown three more, but they were normal. Robey later commented, “Had they been otherwise, I wonder how I would have paid for them with only six dollars in my pocket.”

The postal clerk was made aware of the error sheet he had just sold and reportedly closed the window and immediately contacted postal officials. Robey went to another nearby branch office to look for more inverts, but all of the stamps there were normal. Then he returned to Hibbs and Company and told his colleagues about his great discovery.

The next day, May 15, following the page one story of the new airmail service to commence that day, the Washington Post reported Robey’s purchase of the sheet of 100 first airmail stamps with the plane “upside down”.

Since the new airmail sheets had the top and righthand margins cut away, they had the characteristics of a quartered section of a conventional printing plate of 400 subjects. The immediate but incorrect assumption during those first few days after Robey’s discovery was that there must be at least three other quarters of the sheet of 400 still waiting to be found at the post office.

In fact, Robey’s sheet represented the entire 100-subject plate, and no other errors were ever sold to the public.
As later reported, postal inspectors found eight other sheets and, after defacement, the errors were incinerated on July 11, 1918.

However, Robey feared that other Inverted “Jenny” errors would be found, driving down the value of his discovery sheet. As a collector, he was probably familiar with the then-recent 5c Red transfer error, which skyrocketed in value, then plunged as numerous examples were found. Robey may also have been intimidated by postal officials who made several attempts to reclaim the sheet, even threatening to void them for postal use!

While Robey contemplated his next move, postal officials directed their attention to devising measures to prevent any more invert errors from occurring. With a daily press run of 350 sheets, thousands more were going to be printed. Eventually, 22,000 sheets of the 24¢ would be produced. The Post Office Department and Bureau were determined not to repeat this embarrassing mistake in an airmail program that already had its detractors. In one spirited expression of doubt, Representative Martin B. Madden of Chicago told Captain Benjamin B. Lipsner, the key organizer of the first airmail service, “...I know of nothing that is more ridiculous or asinine than a venture of this sort. If I had my way about it, I would see that you are thrown into the federal penitentiary, and the key thrown away.”

Captain Lipsner was so distraught over the sale of a sheet showing the plane flying upside down, he confronted the postal clerk who sold it, who replied, “A fellow asked for a sheet of airmails and I handed him one without looking at it. And anyway, how was I to know the thing was upside down? I never saw a plane before.”

To aid inspectors checking for inverts, postal officials decided to add the word “TOP” in blue ink to the top sheet margin next to the blue plate number 8493 on the vignette plate. They also changed the trimming process so that the top margin would always remain intact, allowing the “TOP” imprints to be visible for inspection.

The single “TOP” was followed almost immediately by the final preventive placement of the word “TOP” in red, again in the top margin, just to the right of the red frame plate number 8492. Trimming was again limited to the left or right side and bottom margins. The overwhelming majority of the sheets produced have the double “TOP” imprint.

Adding the word “TOP” to the plates was actually unnecessary as long as the top margin was preserved during inspection. The presence of both plate numbers, in blue and red, would indicate that the stamps were printed correctly. In Robey’s error sheet, the blue plate number was printed on the bottom margin. If the top margin were intact on an error sheet, the red number would appear above Position 7, but the blue would be missing.

The First, Second and Third Printings of the 24¢ “Jenny” produced a total of 2,198,600 stamps, of which 2,134,988 were distributed. Out of all of these stamps, only 100 Inverted “Jenny” errors were sold.

While postal officials were licking their wounds, bullying Robey into giving up his prize and taking steps to prevent any other invert errors from reaching the public, Robey himself was busy trying to secure the best price for his sheet. Many of the most notable dealers of the era became part of the week-long selling process.

Eustice B. Power of Stanley Gibbons (in New York) made a paltry $250 offer. Hamilton F. Colman, another prominent dealer, made his first offer of $500 (as we will see, his first offer was a tiny fraction of his second offer). The Scott Stamp and Coin Company wanted to sell the sheet on commission. Percy Mann, after examining the sheet in person, was ready to pay $10,000. John J. Klemann of the Nassau Stamp Company offered $2,500, and, in response, Robey said he already had a $10,000 offer from Mann, to which Klemann replied that both Robey and Mann must be “crazy.”

Elliott Perry, one of the most respected dealers and an agent for Senator Ernest R. Ackerman, a major collector of the era, had been contacted by Robey soon after the discovery, but he had failed in his attempt to secure the right of first refusal. Perry went so far as to mail a $1 silver certificate to Robey to confirm the agreement, which Robey returned claiming that he did not want such a binding arrangement.

While in New York to show his invert sheet to dealers, Robey stopped by the office of the famous multi-millionaire collector, Colonel Edward H. R. Green, but he was told that Green was away.

Tired and more than a little frustrated by the experience of offering his invert sheet to dealers who were either unmoved by its significance or greedy in their profit-making, Robey prepared to leave New York and return home to Washington D.C. On May 19, he and Percy Mann met at the Philadelphia Station and took a detour to the home of Eugene Klein, a well-known dealer and auctioneer. Klein was aware of Mann’s offer, which had yet to be accepted, and asked Robey to name his price, to which Robey replied he would not accept any amount less than $15,000. Klein agreed, subject to an option until 3 p.m. the next day, Monday, May 20.

Klein telephoned Robey the next day, exercising his option and confirming it with a registered letter. On May 21, 1918, exactly one week after William T. Robey purchased what has become the most famous postage stamp in the world—the “Upside-Down Airplane”—the sheet of 100 changed hands for $15,000. As Robey would later recall, “Promptly at noon, the sheet was delivered to Mr. Klein at his office in Philadelphia, receiving a certified check in payment. Thus, within one week, stamps that originally cost $24 were sold for a profit of $14,976.”

Robey’s elation with the sale may have been somewhat tempered by another twist in the story. Having offered $500, Hamilton Colman called Robey on the morning of May 20, while Klein’s option was still pending, and made a second offer of $18,000, a 36-fold increase! Robey told Colman that Klein had an option and declined to accept the offer.

Shortly thereafter, Colman and Joseph Leavy, who was the philatelic curator of the U.S. stamp collection at the Smithsonian Institution, received permission from New York Postmaster Thomas G. Patton to search through all of the 24¢ sheets in the post office vault. Anticipation was undoubtedly very high, especially since many still believed Robey’s discovery sheet was only one quarter of the printed sheet of 400. Package after package of full sheets were opened and inspected. All had the airplane flying rightside up.

Eugene Klein, who had been approached by Percy Mann and Joseph Steinmetz before Robey’s arrival, formed a partnership with them whereby the profits from resale would be shared among them (as it turned out, Klein received half, apparently with the others’ blessings). After securing the option to buy the invert sheet, Klein also arranged to sell it to Colonel Green for $20,000. When Klein confirmed the purchase on May 20, he was undoubtedly certain of a $5,000 profit for the partnership.

Colonel Edward Howland Robinson Green was a logical buyer for the sheet, as Robey himself must have known when he tried to meet with Green in New York.

In Arthur H. Lewis’s account of the Green family fortune, The Day They Shook The Plum Tree, he introduces the characters with a mix of awe and scorn:

“Rum, Russian iron, and the post-Revolutionary merchant marine gave the Fortune added impetus. But it was whaling plus the shrewdness of Black Hawk Robinson that enabled his daughter Hetty, through forgery, perjury, penury, genius, ruthlessness, and physical stamina, to die in 1916 the richest and most detested woman in America and the mother of two children whose lives she had ruined. Since Hetty gave nothing to charity while she lived, nobody expected her to give anything to charity when she died. Nobody was disappointed.

 

Hetty’s will put her entire estate into the hands of ‘Colonel Ned,’ a six-foot four-inch, three-hundred-pound, wildly eccentric, one-legged son who blithely tossed away $3,000,000 a year on yachts, coins, stamps, diamond-studded chastity belts, female teenage ‘wards,’ pornography, orchid culture, and Texas politics...”

At a time when Colonel Green was spending fantastic sums of his newly-inherited wealth on many things, including rare stamps, he must have casually assured Eugene Klein that he would buy the sheet for $20,000. Some reports say that Green thought he was buying a sheet of 2¢ Pan-American Inverts. In fact, the true details of the transaction were never accurately recorded by Klein or other parties to it.

Colonel Green agreed to let Klein break up the sheet and sell examples to others, but first Klein lightly pencilled the position number on the gum side of each stamp, enabling future philatelists to cite every stamp by its exact location in the sheet. Klein initially advertised that he would sell single stamps from the sheet for $250 fully perforated or $175 with straight edge. He then withdrew the offered prices, giving a disingenuous explanation that he had placed the sheet privately (in fact, it was sold before the ad was placed). Prospective buyers were advised to apply for a price.

Colonel Green is reported to have kept only four blocks for himself, including the bottom block of eight with arrow and plate number. However, in the series of 28 auctions held from 1942 to 1946 to disperse Green’s massive collection for his estate (he died in June 1936), a total of 38 Inverted “Jenny” stamps were offered, including the block of eight, three blocks of four, five fully-perforated stamps and 13 of the original 19 straight-edge stamps. The 18 extra stamps were presumably unsold and returned by Eugene Klein to Colonel Green.

Colonel Green was regarded neither as an astute philatelist nor careful custodian of his stamps. He reportedly had his “wards” dismantle collections that had been meticulously written up. Many stories have been told about Green mishandling his Inverted “Jenny” stamps, but they are almost all apocryphal. However, one true story is that he had a locket made for his wife, Mabel, which contained Position 9 and, on the flip side, a normal 24¢ “Jenny.” The famous Locket Copy was left by Mabel to a friend in 1950. It was sold by the Siegel firm in 2002.

William T. Robey was never to own a single copy of the famous Inverted “Jenny.” In many interviews over the years that followed his discovery, he never expressed a desire to acquire one for his stock or collection. After all, he had been given that once-in-a-lifetime thrill to discover and acquire the original sheet, and to possess it for a full seven days. He loved and continued stamp collecting until his death in 1949. By then, he had observed the many sales of Colonel Green’s enormous collection and undoubtedly enjoyed seeing his Inverted “Jenny” stamps give pleasure to collectors around the world.

 

 

 

Back to table of contents for Sale 901

 

This Web Site is Copyright © Siegel Auction Galleries, Inc. - All Rights Reserved

Home

Current
Catalogues

Retail
Offerings

Prices
Realized

Submit
for Sale

Search

Siegel
Encyclopedia

Resources

E-Mail