24¢ Continental Bank Note Issue Revisited

Last week, I walked through the case for the 24¢ Continental stamp — Scott #164 — using John Luff’s delivery records and a mix of logic, frustration, and maybe a little wishful thinking. I laid out the numbers, highlighted the inconsistencies in expert opinion, and tried to test a working theory: that the Continental printings of the 24¢ stamp might be identifiable by their deeper shades and bolder impressions. I combed through dozens of covers, hoping to spot a clue — some consistent thread of difference between the National and Continental versions.

And what did I find?

Not much. At least not visually. Despite all the hopeful theories, nothing on those covers stood out with the kind of clarity we’d need to say, “Yes, this one is different. This one is it.”

But the story doesn’t end there.

This article picks up where last weeks post left off — and dives into what Lester Brookman had to say about the mystery surrounding the 24¢ Continental Bank Note.

Let’s Start with the Paper

Brookman, like many others before and after him, believed that the key to identifying a genuine 24¢ Continental would lie in the paper. Why? Because Continental used a few distinct paper types that National did not.

Among them: ribbed paper—a paper that shows parallel lines, vertically or horizontally, when held against strong light. These ribs were not simply printing artifacts like “worn blanket” impressions. They were structural. You could feel them. Measure them. Identify them.

Brookman noted that ribbed paper existed on several Continental values—the Scott Specialized Catalog at the time reported it on several Continental issues, but not on the 24¢ or 90¢. Scott’s Specialized Catalogue at the time claimed ribbed paper varieties existed on all values except the 24¢ and 90¢. Perry famously said, “We’re from Missouri”—in other words, show me.

Well, now we can.

Today, a certified 24¢ stamp printed on vertically ribbed paper has been acknowledged by the Philatelic Foundation. It's the first true, confirmable specimen of its kind, offering a smoking gun for collectors who've long believed the stamp must exist—but had nothing more than delivery records and wishful thinking to back them up.

The Trouble with Color

Back in Brookman’s day (and still today), collectors tried to separate National from Continental printings based on color. The theory went something like this: Continental’s inks were deeper and richer. If you found a 24¢ stamp with especially intense purple coloration, maybe—just maybe—it was a Continental.

Brookman cautioned against this.

The purple ink used on the 24¢ stamp was notoriously fugitive. Light, age, and even the gum used on the back of the stamp could affect the tone over time. As Brookman put it, “light is a deadly enemy” of this color, and he believed very few stamps had survived in their original rich shade.

He also quoted old time 1894 stamp author Henry Gremmel, who suggested that the lighter shades were more likely to be the Continentals, not the darker ones as I previously theorized. Brookman even went so far as to suggest that workmanship on the Continental printings was generally lower than National’s, meaning Continental examples might have weaker impressions and more worn plates.

But again—without something concrete like ribbed paper or distinctive gum, color was just another rabbit hole.

What About Secret Marks?

There was a time when collectors hoped that secret marks—like the ones found on other Continental denominations—might help them identify a true 24¢ Continental.

Unfortunately, no such luck here. All known 24¢ stamps, whether printed by National or Continental, came from the same plate—Plate No. 21—originally engraved and used by National.

According to an 1872 letter from the National Bank Note Company to the Post Office Department uncovered by Clarence Brazer, when National handed over plates to the Post Office or to Continental, those plates were canceled—probably with small marks in the margins, but not in the actual stamp design itself. So even if such “cancellation marks” existed, they wouldn’t help identify single stamps torn off a sheet.

Return to the Ribbed Paper 24¢

Well after Brookman finished his research, an example of the 24¢ stamp surfaced on true vertical ribbed paper. This wasn’t a “worn blanket” printing impression, or a trick of the light. This was real ribbed paper, the kind used briefly by Continental.

The Philatelic Foundation certified the stamp.

This changed the game.

It meant the 24¢ Continental did exist—at least one does—and it confirms Brookman’s original hypothesis that paper would be the key to identification. It also opens the door to further discoveries, especially among the hundreds of thousands of 24¢ stamps still sitting in albums, dealer stocks, and collections.

So Why Don’t We See More?

According to Stamp Agent records cited by Brookman, Continental printed and delivered 365,000 24¢ stamps to the Post Office Department.

But this leads to a dilemma: Brookman relies primarily on Stamp Agent delivery records, while John Luff also considers records of stamps actually sent out to individual postmasters. These two sets of data don’t line up, which helps explain why there’s so much disagreement about how many 24¢ Continental stamps actually entered circulation.

If you lean toward trusting the Stamp Agent records, things get complicated quickly. After June 30, 1875, no additional 24¢ stamps were issued to post offices. Of the 365,000 Continental stamps printed, 364,950 were later destroyed as remainders—leaving only 50 stamps unaccounted for. That would suggest an incredibly small number made it into the mailstream.

However, Brookman doesn’t clarify that this destruction total includes all remaining 24¢ stamps, including any leftover National printings and official issues. So it’s not safe to assume those 50 surviving stamps were definitely Continentals—or definitely Nationals.

Brookman himself didn’t think the remainders were exclusively one or the other. He believed it was unlikely that all of the destroyed stamps were Continentals—but also doubted that none were. The most reasonable conclusion is that some Continentals made it out the door—and the certified ribbed paper example we have today may be proof that at least one did.

One Stamp, Many Theories

While writing about this issue, Brookman quotes some of the biggest names in 20th-century philatelic research: Perry, Bates, Brazer, Milliken, and others. Each had their own theories. Some believed silk fibers might be the key. Others thought plate wear or impression sharpness might offer clues. A few speculated on ink composition.

One of the more intriguing figures mentioned by Brookman regarding this mystery is Y. Souren, founder of the Philatelic Research Laboratories. I found myself so fascinated by the three paragraphs Brookman dedicated to him that I went out and purchased the only surviving copy of the book I could find and am patiently awaiting delivery.

While most experts of his day were focused on visual comparisons—color shades, impressions, maybe a grill or secret mark—Souren took a different route. He believed the answer wasn’t in what you could see with the naked eye, but what you could prove with scientific tools. He built a lab specifically for stamp research, using microscopes, fiber analysis, and other methods that were way ahead of their time.

In a 1940 letter to Brookman, Souren made a bold claim: he had cracked the mystery. He claimed they had definite proof that certain 24¢ stamps were Continental printings—and that the key was in the paper, not the color or the printing quality. He didn’t go into detail, but said the solution was complicated and would likely upend everything collectors thought they knew about the issue.

Unfortunately, Souren has slipped into obscurity for most modern collectors. He once claimed to have definitive proof of how to identify Continental Bank Note printings—an incredible breakthrough if true—but then more or less vanished from the conversation. I’ve started digging into his story to better understand why his method never gained traction or widespread acceptance in the philatelic community. Was he ahead of his time? Was his research ever fully revealed? That’s what I’m trying to find out.

So where does all of this leave us?

Honestly, I’m not much further along than I was when I wrote the first article last week—but revisiting Brookman has opened up a new lead. I’m hoping that once Souren’s book arrives, it might reveal more about the methods he used to analyze Bank Note paper. His story feels unfinished. He may have cracked the code decades ago using tools and techniques that most collectors at the time didn’t understand—or simply didn’t trust. His work never gained wide acceptance, but now that we have a certified ribbed paper example, it’s worth taking another look at what he claimed to have discovered.

I will be digging into his research, and with any luck, I’ll be able to figure out why his findings were overlooked—and whether they deserve re-examination today.