



Produced by KD Weeks, deaurider and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)






------------------------------------------------------------------------

                          Transcriber’s Note:

This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. Superscripted
characters are indicated with a carat (‘^’). If multiple characters are
superscripted, they are delimited with curly braces (e.g. M^{rs.}).

Footnotes have been moved to follow the paragraphs in which they are
referenced. Most illustrations are full-page photographs. These were
described by a simple caption as well as a brief paragraph. This
material is included here, moved slightly to avoid falling on a paragraph
break.

Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.




                      THE POST OFFICE & ITS STORY

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: HEAVING OVERBOARD THE MAILS.]

      Fernando Noronha is a little island in the South Atlantic
      Ocean, and when a vessel does not call there the letters are
      enclosed in a cask, to which a flag is attached; this is
      cast into the sea and there left floating until a boat from
      the island picks it up. The island is sighted by perhaps
      more ships and visited by fewer than any other spot on the
      globe.

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                            THE POST OFFICE
                             AND ITS STORY

                       _AN INTERESTING ACCOUNT OF
                  THE ACTIVITIES OF A GREAT GOVERNMENT
                              DEPARTMENT_




                                   BY
                             EDWARD BENNETT




                         With 31 Illustrations




                                 LONDON
                       SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LTD.
                        38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET
                                  1912

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                      THE SCIENCE OF TO-DAY SERIES

          _With many illustrations. Extra Crown 8vo. 5s. net._

=BOTANY OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Account of the Evolution of Modern Botany.
    By Prof. G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT, M.A., B.SC., Author of “The Romance of
    Plant Life,” _&c. &c._

    “One of the books that turn botany from a dryasdust into a
    fascinating study.”—_Evening Standard._

=AERIAL NAVIGATION OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Account of the Evolution of
    Aeronautics. By CHARLES C. TURNER.

    “Mr. Turner is well qualified to write with authority on the
    subject. The book sets forth the principles of flight in plain
    non-technical language. One is impressed by the complete
    thoroughness with which the subject is treated.”—_Daily Graphic._

=SCIENTIFIC IDEAS OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Account, in Non-technical
    Language, of the Nature of Matter, Electricity, Light, Heat,
    Electrons, _&c. &c._ By CHARLES R. GIBSON, F.R.S.E., Author of
    “Electricity of To-Day,” _&c._

    “Supplies a real need.... Mr. Gibson has a fine gift of
    exposition.”—_Birmingham Post._

=ASTRONOMY OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Introduction in Non-technical Language.
    By CECIL G. DOLMAGE, LL.D., F.R.A.S. With frontispiece in colours, &
    45 other illustrations.

    “Dr. Dolmage has absolutely kept to his promise to introduce the
    reader to an acquaintance with the astronomy of to-day in
    non-technical language.”—_Saturday Review._

=ELECTRICITY OF TO-DAY.= Its Work and Mysteries Explained. By CHARLES R.
    GIBSON, F.R.S.E.

    “Mr. Gibson has given us one of the best examples of popular
    scientific exposition that we remember seeing. His book may be
    strongly commended to all who wish to realise what electricity means
    and does in our daily life.”—_The Tribune._

=ENGINEERING OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Account of the Present State of the
    Science, with many interesting Examples, described in Non-technical
    Language. By THOMAS W. CORBIN. With 73 illustrations & diagrams.

“Most attractive and instructive.”—_Record._

“The descriptions which are given of various types of engineering
structures and work are excellent.”—_Yorkshire Observer._

“Altogether a most delightful book.”—_Literary World._

=MEDICAL SCIENCE OF TO-DAY.= A Popular Account of the more recent
    Developments in Medicine & Surgery. By WILLMOTT EVANS, M.D., B.S.,
    B.SC. (Lond.), F.R.C.S. (Eng.), Surgeon to the Royal Free Hospital.

=MECHANICAL INVENTIONS OF TO-DAY.= An Interesting Description of Modern
    Mechanical Inventions told in Non-technical Language. By THOMAS W.
    CORBIN, Author of “Engineering of To-Day.” With 95 illustrations &
    diagrams.

                     SEELEY, SERVICE & CO. LIMITED




                             AUTHOR'S NOTE


A great deal has been written about the General Post Office in
newspapers and magazines, but the books on the subject are comparatively
few. And these volumes are either exhaustive historical treatises, such
as Mr. Herbert Joyce's _History of the Post Office_, or more popularly
written descriptions of Post Office life and work of the character of
Lewin's _His Majesty's Mails_ or J. W. Heyde's _Royal Mail_. Mr. Joyce's
work, however, carries us no farther than the eve of penny postage,
while the other books were written too long ago to be a guide to the
Post Office of to-day. It is within the last twenty years that the
Department has made the most rapid strides in the extension of its
activities, and it is this period especially which is without an
historian.

What I have attempted to do is to tell the story of the Department,
briefly in its early beginnings, more fully in its modern developments,
and in such a way as to give the reader the impression that the Post
Office is alive, that it is in close touch with the needs of the nation,
and is in less danger of being strangled with red-tape methods than at
any time of its existence.

A book on the Post Office written for the student should contain
abundant references to authorities and exhaustive tables of figures and
estimates, but in the interest of the general reader I have omitted
these aids to reflection. Mark Twain, when he published one of his
novels, said he had omitted all descriptions of scenery in the story,
but those who liked that sort of thing would find it in the appendix. I
have dispensed even with an appendix, and those who really want figures
and estimates must be referred to the Postmaster-General's Annual
Reports.

Of course I am largely indebted to the volumes I have mentioned and to
others for the historical portions of my book. To Sir Rowland Hill's
Life, written by his daughter, I owe many of the facts contained in my
chapter on “The Penny Post.”

The staff of the General Post Office have during the last twenty-one
years conducted a magazine entitled _St. Martin's le Grand_, the volumes
of which have been of great assistance to me, as they will be in the
future to a more serious historian of the Post Office than I can claim
to be. Among the writers to this magazine whose contributions I have
found of great use are A. M. Ogilvie, J. A. J. Housden, C. H. Denver, R.
C. Tombs, I.S.O., and R. W. Johnston. Mr. Johnston, who had held during
a long life several important posts in the Department, took a keen
interest in this book in its early stages, but, to my great regret, died
before it was completed. Articles by J. G. Hendry and W. C. Waller
helped me considerably in my chapter on “The Travelling Post Office.”
Mr. E. Wells and Mr. A. Davey gave me their kind help on the subject of
“Motor Mails” and “The Parcel Post,” and to my friend Mr. A. W. Edwards
I am indebted for most valuable assistance in the writing of my chapters
on “The Telegraph.” I have also to thank another friend, Mr. R. W.
Hatswell, for advice and help in many directions.

My acknowledgments are due to Messrs Jarrold and Sons of Norwich and
Warwick Lane, E.C., for their kind permission to include a schoolboy's
essay on the postman in my chapter dealing with that official. The essay
is to be found in a book entitled _The Comic Side of School Life_, by H.
J. Barker.

The Post Office has many critics, friendly and unfriendly, but it counts
its friends in millions, and I have written this book with the belief
that a closer knowledge of the Department with which we all have
dealings will be acceptable.

                                                     EDWARD BENNETT.




                                CONTENTS


     CHAP.                                                      PAGE

        I. POSTBOYS AND MAIL COACHES                              17

       II. THE PENNY POST                                         31

      III. LOMBARD STREET AND ST. MARTIN'S LE GRAND               43

       IV. KING EDWARD'S BUILDING                                 56

        V. THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE                             69

       VI. THE PARCEL POST                                        83

      VII. MOTOR MAILS                                            98

     VIII. THE UNDELIVERED POSTAL PACKET                         108

       IX. MONEY ORDERS AND POSTAL ORDERS                        125

        X. THE POST OFFICE SAVINGS BANK                          137

       XI. THE TELEGRAPH                                         155

      XII. THE TELEGRAPH (_continued_)                           170

     XIII. THE TELEPHONE                                         181

      XIV. ENGINEERS, STORES AND FACTORIES                       195

       XV. OCEAN MAILS                                           208

      XVI. THE POSTAL UNION                                      222

     XVII. CONCERNING FOREIGN POST OFFICES                       231

    XVIII. THE POST OFFICES OF THE EMPIRE                        246

      XIX. THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL AND THE PERMANENT              261
             STAFF

       XX. THE HEAD POSTMASTER                                   276

      XXI. THE VILLAGE POST OFFICE                               289

     XXII. THE POSTMAN                                           304

    XXIII. THE POST OFFICE GUIDE                                 317

     XXIV. OLD AGE PENSIONS AND OTHER ACTIVITIES OF              332
             THE POST OFFICE

           INDEX                                                 350




                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 HEAVING OVERBOARD THE MAILS                              _Frontispiece_
                                                                    PAGE
 THE MAIL COACHES LEAVING LONDON                                      20
 MAIL COACH AND TRAIN                                                 34
 ST. MARTIN'S LE GRAND                                                48
 THE BLIND SECTION                                                    62
 THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE—
      INTERIOR                                                        70
      SUSPENDING THE POUCH                                            76
      POUCH AND NET                                                   76
      POUCH TAKEN                                                     76
      APPARATUS FOR RECEIVING POUCH                                   78
      APPARATUS FOR DELIVERING POUCH                                  78
 THE PARCEL POST HOSPITAL                                             94
 THE CUSTOM HOUSE OFFICERS AT WORK                                    96
 THE SORTING OFFICE                                                  110
 A POSTCARD                                                          114
 A POSTCARD                                                          120
 A LONDON POSTMAN (OLD STYLE)                                        126
 THE WOODPECKER AND THE TELEGRAPH POST                               156
 TELEGRAMS ON TELEPHONE WIRES                                        172
 THE TELEPHONE DETECTIVE                                             182
 THREE MINUTES' CONVERSATION BY TELEPHONE                            192
 UNDERGROUND TELEPHONE WIRES                                         198
 HOW TREASURE WAS BROUGHT TO LONDON                                  210
 ST. KILDA MAIL                                                      219
 THE POSTAL UNION MONUMENT                                           228
 A POST OFFICE STONE                                                 255
 THE RIVER POSTMAN                                                   258
 THE SORTING SCHOOL                                                  280
 THE POSTMAN'S BELL                                                  306
 A COUNTRY POSTWOMAN                                                 314
 A NEST IN A LETTER-BOX                                              328




                            THE POST OFFICE
                              & ITS STORY




                               CHAPTER I
                       POSTBOYS AND MAIL COACHES


A schoolboy who was given the task of writing an essay on the Post
Office used these words: “The Post Office contains the whole world's
circumstances, or welfare, day after day, as a mother shuts all her
chickens under her wings. A man would not reveal his very secreate words
to his wife or to any one, but he trusts them to a weak envelope in the
Post Office.” This boy was perhaps wiser than he knew. For there is no
institution existing in the country which comes so near to the hearts
and homes of the British people as the General Post Office. Created
primarily for the despatch and delivery of letters, it has developed
into a vast organisation which is at once the carrier of the people's
correspondence and parcels, the people's bank, and the agency by which
all communications by telegraph and telephone are conducted. To tell the
story of that organisation, how from the smallest beginnings in the
Middle Ages it developed into the Post Office of the present day, would
be a delightful task, but my intention is rather to relate its modern
triumphs and to deal with its history so far as it helps us to
understand the position of things to-day.

It is usual, in telling the story of the Post Office, to go as far back
as Greek, Roman, and Jewish times. In almost every book and article on
the subject we are reminded that Ahasuerus sent letters into all
provinces concerning his wife Vashti, and that Queen Jezebel has at
least one urbane action to her credit in that she despatched the first
recorded circular letter. Then we are reminded that Cicero and Pliny
were accomplished correspondents, and that St. Paul wrote letters which
have had a wide circulation. But these instances usually belong to the
history of letter-writing and have little relation to our subject. It is
obvious that so soon as letters began to be written in any nation they
must have been despatched by some means or other to the persons for whom
the communications were intended. Ancient history has many instances of
posts specially created for the delivery of perhaps only one letter. The
story of the Post Office can only properly begin at the time when the
first efforts were made to systematise what was already a prevailing
habit of the people.

The history of the British Post Office as a system can be divided into
three periods. There was the age of the post-horses and postboys,
extending from the time of the Tudors far into the eighteenth century.
There was the age of the mail coaches, the romantic age of the General
Post Office, full of stirring deeds and adventures. Indeed the title
“His Majesty's Mails” would have accurately described the whole of the
business transacted by the British Post Office during these centuries.
Lastly there is the age in which we are living, the age of the mail
train, which has produced a wide extension of the duties of the
Department, and the despatch and delivery of letters is now only one of
its activities. There is possibly another age in the near future of
which we can already distinguish the dawn, that of the airship and
aeroplane, but we are dealing in these pages with only accomplished
facts.

There is little doubt that the first posts organised in this country
were simply for the transmission of public despatches, and though from
time to time attempts were made by private individuals to organise posts
of their own, these efforts met with but little success, and in 1637 it
was ordered by proclamation that no other messengers or foot posts were
to carry letters except those employed by the King's Postmaster-General,
unless to places untouched by the King's posts. This order marked the
beginning of the monopoly which ever since has been in the hands of the
Government.

The word “post” comes to us from the French; in early English records
the carrier of the post is called a runner or a messenger. We
assimilated the word under the Tudors, and the first man to be described
as Master of the Posts was Brian Tuke, appointed by Henry VIII. in 1509.
In this reign there was a service more or less regular between London
and Berwick and between London and Calais. The Dover road is probably
the oldest mail route in the kingdom. During the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries services were gradually extended to Scotland,
Ireland, and the West of England.

The posts were slow and unreliable. The roads of this country were for
several centuries in a wretched condition, and travelling was difficult
and dangerous. The causeway or bridle-track ran down the middle of the
road, while “the margin on either side was little better than a ditch,
and being lower than the adjoining soil and at the same time soft and
unmade, received and retained the sludge.” The authorities were chiefly
concerned to preserve the causeway, for the mails were carried by
runners or postboys on horseback. The maximum speed for the postboys
allowed by the Master of the Posts was seven miles an hour: there was no
authorised minimum, and the speed, including stoppages, rarely exceeded
four miles an hour. Moreover the postboys were undisciplined and a
source of infinite trouble to their employers. The postmaster on the
other hand frequently considered that any horse was good enough to carry
the mails, and the animals he supplied were a disgrace to the service.
The temptations of the wayside inn often also explained the long delays.
An official in the early part of the eighteenth century complained that
“the gentry doe give much money to the riders whereby they be very
subject to get in liquor which stops _the males_.”

The words, “Haste, Post, haste,” have been found on the backs of private
letters written at the close of the fifteenth century, and this was no
formal endorsement but an urgent appeal to the lazy postboy to hurry up.
“Ride, villain, ride,—for thy life—for thy life—for thy life,” appeared
also on letters with sketches of a skull and cross-bones or of a man
hanging from a cross-bar. It was thought desirable to frighten the
servant of the Government into the performance of his duties.

The towns on the route were bound to supply the horses for the King's
posts. The postmasters in each town were the persons immediately
responsible for this business, and it is interesting to know that one of
the qualifications for the situation was the ability of the candidate to
furnish a certificate under the hand and seal of the Bishop of the
diocese that he was conformable to the discipline of the Church of
England, and he was required to receive the Sacrament of the Lord's
Supper three months after admittance to office. The postmaster was
frequently the innkeeper: he was the person best able to supply horses;
and though his salary was small, the position was probably remunerative,
as travellers were drawn to his house.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE MAIL COACHES LEAVING LONDON.]

      In the early part of the nineteenth century one of the
      sights of London was the departure from St. Martin's le
      Grand every evening of the mail coaches bound for all parts
      of England.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

But we must not forget the foot posts in the old days, or runners as
they are usually called. In the year 1715 there was not a single horse
post in Scotland, all the mails being conveyed by runners on foot. Cross
posts were frequently undertaken by runners, and the runners were not
extravagantly paid for their services. A post-runner travelled from
Inverness to Lochcarron—a distance, across country, of about fifty
miles—making the journey once a week, for which he was paid five
shillings. Naturally there was much difficulty with them, and they were
continually at the mercy of highwaymen. Moreover, in spite of the
penalty of capital punishment being visited on those who robbed his
Majesty's mails, the postman himself was a frequent offender.

The difficulties of travelling in the seventeenth century are
illustrated by the fact that in 1626 nearly £60 was spent in setting up
wooden posts along the highway and causeway, near Bristol, for the
guidance of travellers and runners. A Government running post then
existed from London to Bristol. There is a spirited description in
Cowper's _Task_ of the arrival of the mail which would have been
applicable during the whole of the postboy period:—

         “Hark, 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,
         That with its wearisome but needful length
         Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon
         Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,
         He comes the herald of a noisy world,
         With spattered boots, strapped waist and frozen locks,
         News from all nations lumbering at his back.
         True to his charge, the close packed load behind,
         Yet careless what he brings, his one concern
         Is to conduct it to the destined inn,
         And having dropped the expected bag, pass on.”

Such was the service with which our forefathers were more or less
contented during the greater part of two centuries. At the end of the
seventeenth century there were weekly posts to many parts of the
country: there was a mail six days a week along the Kent road: at any
place where the Court happened to be in residence a daily post was at
once created, and during the season at Bath and Tunbridge Wells the
visitors enjoyed the privilege of a daily despatch and delivery of
letters.

It was not until late in the eighteenth century that any radical
alteration in the system took place. For many years it had become a
reproach against the Post Office that it had not kept pace with the
travelling capacities and requirements of the time. What were called
“Flying Coaches” had been established in the seventeenth century to many
towns in the Kingdom, and while these conveyances were increasing in
speed and comfort the Post Office was still satisfied with its four or
five miles an hour. The slowness of the posts was in fact becoming
intolerable to the people. The General Convention of the Royal Burghs of
Scotland called the attention of the Postmasters-General to the slowness
of the posts on the Great North Road. “Every common traveller,” they
wrote, “passed the King's mail on the first road in the kingdom,” and
complaints were made, generally by traders and professional men, that
business was hampered by the backwardness of the Post Office.

To John Palmer, proprietor of the theatre at Bath, belongs the credit of
the proposal to use the coach for the carriage of the mails. He was
remorseless in his description of the system he wished to abolish. The
correspondence, he said, “was entrusted to some idle boy without
character mounted on a worn-out hack, who so far from being able to
defend himself against a robber, was more likely to be in league with
one.” Palmer's duties carried him into many parts of the country, and he
thought letters should be conveyed at the same pace at which it was
possible to travel in a chaise. He submitted his plan to Pitt, who was
Prime Minister, and this statesman gave his warm approval to a trial of
the scheme. On the 2nd August 1784 the first mail coach started from
Bristol, and so successful was the experiment that in the following year
there were coaches running to all parts of the Kingdom. Then ensued a
period of great activity on the part of the General Post Office. There
was competition with the private coaches, and year after year there were
attempts to make records and to accelerate the mails.

The mail-coaching period extended a little over fifty years, and it
marked as great an advance on the service of the past as the mail train
has since shown compared with the mail coach. For instance, in 1715 the
time allowed for the mail between London and Edinburgh was six days.
Eighty years later a great advance had taken place. In 1798 Lord
Campbell relates: “I was to perform the journey by mail coach to
Edinburgh, and was supposed to travel with marvellous velocity, taking
only three nights and two days for the whole distance from London. But
this speed was thought to be highly dangerous to the head, independently
of all the perils of an overturn, and stories were told of men and women
who, having reached London with such celerity, died suddenly of an
affection of the brain. My family and friends were seriously alarmed for
me and advised me at all events to stay a day at York to recruit
myself.” The fares he mentions were £10 from Edinburgh to London; to
York, £4, 15s.; and from York to London, £5.

In 1836 the speed of some of the mail coaches was nearly ten miles an
hour including stoppages, and this was kept up over very long distances.
From Edinburgh to London, a distance of 400 miles, the time allowed was
forty-five and a half hours; from London to York, 197 miles, twenty
hours; from London to Holyhead, 259 miles, twenty-seven hours. The
time-bills of the old mail coaches are most interesting, and they show
how complete was the organisation of the service. There was a column for
the distance between each place, another column for the time allowed,
and another column for the actual arrival and starting times. The
numbers of the coach and the timepiece which it carried were recorded,
and the delivery of the timepiece “safe” was always signed for at the
conclusion of the journey.

The coachman, though not a Post Office servant—he was employed by the
contractors—always wore a brilliant uniform; and the mail guard, an
officer of the Postmaster-General, also arrayed in bright uniform,
carried firearms. The mail guard had to see that time was kept, and
especially that there was no delay in the time allowed for refreshments.
The instructions to guards bring home to us the ways of the road a
hundred years ago. At the beginning of the last century the chief
superintendent of mail coaches was Thomas Hasker, an official of the
Post Office. His instructions, written in homely language, seem to be
instinct with a vitalising influence which was speeding up the whole
system. What to him was the safety of mere passengers compared with the
punctual delivery of his Majesty's mails? To the postmaster of Ipswich
he wrote: “Tell Mr. Foster to get fresh horses immediately, and that I
must see him in town next Monday. Shameful work—three hours and twenty
minutes coming over his eighteen miles!” On the Exeter road the mail
guards were instructed by him as follows: “You are not to stop at any
place whatever to leave any letters at, but to blow your horn to give
the people notice that you have got letters for them. Therefore if they
do not choose to come out to receive them don't you get down from your
dicky, but take them on to Exeter and bring them back with you on your
next journey.” Again an instruction to the mail guards reads: “If the
coachman go into a public-house to drink, don't you go with him and make
the stop longer, but hurry him out.”

The halt for refreshments was always an annoying necessity to Hasker. A
guard had attempted to hurry out the passengers as well as the driver.
And the passengers had complained. “Sir,” wrote Hasker, “stick to your
bill and never mind what passengers say respecting waiting overtime. Is
it not the fault of the landlord to keep them so long? Some day when you
have waited a considerable time (suppose five or eight minutes longer
than is allowed by the bill), drive away and leave them behind.” We can
imagine a guard acting on this instruction and losing his tips!

The guards were expected to be as regular as clock-pieces, but even Mr.
Hasker had sometimes to reckon with them as human beings. “The
superintendents,” he writes in another memorandum, “will please to
observe that Mr. Hasker does not wish to be too hard on the guards. Such
a thing as a joint of meat or a couple of fowls or any other article for
their own family in moderation he does not wish to debar them from the
privilige of carrying.” But he was against the guards assisting the
poachers.

Even in those days Post Office servants were obliged to give written
explanation of their misdeeds, and they occasionally scored against
their fault-finders. A mail guard had been reported for impertinence by
certain contractors who were notorious for the indifferent lights with
which they supplied their coaches. The mail guard admitted his offence,
“but,” he slyly added, “perhaps something may be said for the feelings
of a guard that hears the continual complaints of passengers against bad
lights and the disagreeable smell of stinking oil, especially when
through such things the passengers withhold the gratuity which the guard
expects.” There is some dignity in this way of putting the matter.

The mails were of course the first consideration on the coaches. The
available room after the loading of the mails was given to passengers'
luggage, and this had frequently to be reduced by the passenger himself
before starting. The great trouble with the guards was the temptation to
overload the coaches. A contributor to the _Quarterly Review_ in 1837
said: “Yet notwithstanding the moral improvement of the drivers, the
improved state of the high roads throughout the kingdom, stage-coach
travelling is more dangerous than it was before owing to the unmerciful
speed of the swift coaches and the unmerciful loads which are piled upon
the others like Pelion upon Ossa, or suspended from them, wherever they
can be hung on. 'Coachman,' said an outside passenger who was being
driven at a furious rate over one of the most mountainous roads in
England, 'have you no consideration for our lives and limbs?' 'What are
your lives and limbs to me?' was the reply, 'I'm behind my time.'”
Sometimes the driver himself suffered after a spell of bad weather which
had rutted the roads. Mr. Hasker reported that “the York coachman and
guard were both chucked from their seats going down to Huntingdon last
journey, and coming up the guard is lost this morning, supposed from the
same cause, as the passengers say he was blowing his horn just before
they missed him.” These were strenuous days, and weather conditions,
especially after a fall of snow, were formidable enemies to the
timekeeping of the guards. Robberies of the mail were far less frequent
than in the days of the post-horses, and the roads, thanks to the
splendid efforts of the great engineers Telford and Macadam, were
immensely improved, but snow and flood were still to be reckoned with.
It was one of the sights of London to see the mail coaches start at
night from the Swan with Two Necks and the Bull and Mouth in Aldersgate
Street. A small crowd was usually to be seen at Hyde Park Corner
watching the westward-bound coaches go by on their night journey.

The great coaching event of the year was the procession of mail coaches
which took place in London on the King's Birthday, and heading the
procession was usually the oldest established mail, the Bristol coach.
In 1834 there were twenty-seven coaches in the procession. At the start
from Millbank “the bells of the churches rang out merrily, continuing
their rejoicing peals till the coaches arrived at the General Post
Office.” I quote from a book, _Annals of the Road_: “In the cramped
interior of the vehicle were closely packed buxom dames and blooming
lassies, the wives, daughters, or sweethearts of the coachmen or guards,
the fair passengers arrayed in coal-scuttle bonnets and in
canary- or scarlet silk. But the great feature after all was
that stirring note so clearly blown and well drawn out, and every now
and again sounded by the guards and alternated with such airs as 'The
Days when we went Gipsying,' capitally played on a key-bugle. Should a
mail come late, the tune from a passing one would be, “Oh dear! what can
the matter be?”

I have already spoken of the mail-coach era as the romantic age of the
General Post Office. English literature and English art have drawn upon
the real and legendary history of the period for much of their
inspiration. Nobody has revealed to us with more vivacity the humours of
the mail coach than Charles Dickens—did not Mr. Tony Weller drive a
coach?—nobody has written of the glories of the mail coach with greater
power than Thomas de Quincey. De Quincey has described one journey in
particular which lives in our literature. The mail was carrying with it
into the country districts the news of a great victory. “From eight P.M.
to fifteen or twenty minutes later, imagine the mails assembled on
parade in Lombard Street, where at that time and not at St. Martin's le
Grand was seated the General Post Office. In what exact strength we
mustered I do not remember, but from the length of each separate
_attelage_ we filled the street, though a long one, and though we were
drawn up in double file. On _any_ night the spectacle was beautiful. The
absolute perfection of all the appointments about the carriages and the
harness, their strength, their brilliant cleanliness, their beautiful
simplicity—but more than all, the royal magnificence of the horses—were
what might first have fixed the attention. Every carriage on every
morning in the year was taken down to an official inspector for
examination, wheels, axles, linchpins, pole, glasses, lamps were all
critically probed and tested.... But the night before us was a night of
victory, and behold! to the ordinary display what a heart-shaking
addition!—horses, men, carriages, all are dressed in laurels and
flowers, oak-leaves and ribbons.” Then De Quincey describes how in every
village they pass through there are people waiting for the news; how the
cheers are taken up all along the road, as the mail coach in the days
before the telegraph carried the good tidings through the Kingdom. The
coach bore not only letters but newspapers, and these were increasing
every year. What a change from the time of the old postboys! Sir Walter
Scott said that a friend of his remembered the letter-bag arriving in
Edinburgh during the year 1745 with but one letter in it!

There is something quite tragic in the fact that at the very time when
travelling by road had reached its perfection in this country as regards
speed and punctuality, a new force was at work which was to overthrow
the mail coach not gradually, but within a few years. On the
introduction of the railway in any district the coach service collapsed
almost immediately as a medium for carrying the mails. And the great
main roads of the country were for thirty years or more almost abandoned
except by the local traffic in the districts which they passed through.
Telford, the great engineer, had only recently reconstructed the
magnificent road which runs from Shrewsbury to Holyhead, which was to be
the means of beating all records in the speeding up of the Irish mail,
but the railway gave it the appearance of a white elephant. For a long
time grass could be seen growing in places in the centre of the road.
“The calamity of railways has fallen upon us,” said Macadam, the great
engineer of the main roads.

There was undoubtedly an appeal to the spirit of romance and adventure
in early Post Office methods. De Quincey tells us that when travelling
by train to York he was not personally aware that he had been going
forty or fifty miles an hour. But on a coach he knew he was going at a
rollicking speed: “the sensibility of the horse uttering itself in the
maniac light in his eye: we heard our speed: we saw it: we felt it as a
thrilling, and this speed was not the product of blind insensate
agencies.”

Then there was the fascination of the great high-way—the thin white
line, sometimes straight, sometimes winding—which was human and alive in
a way that a railway track can never be. Men were not then simply driven
or shot into places; they drove through places; and they touched life at
every point of the road.

The Post Office is, however, not administered by poets and artists, but
by men of the type of Thomas Hasker. And to men like him the coming of
the mail train was a matter for official rejoicing. For it meant the
speeding up still further of his Majesty's mails.




                               CHAPTER II
                             THE PENNY POST


It would be unjust to the memory of a great postal reformer to say that
George Stephenson was the real author of Penny Postage, but it is quite
fair to submit that it was the coming of the mail train which made Sir
Rowland Hill's reform the great success which it ultimately became. It
is true Sir Rowland Hill worked out his scheme when the mail coaches
were still running, and it was a part of his case that the reform could
be carried through with existing methods of carrying the mails, but it
is open to serious doubt whether he could have succeeded had not the
vast possibilities of the railway as an agent of the Post Office been
before the minds of the people of this country when the plan was being
discussed in Parliament and in the country. That the coming of the mail
train was a probability in Sir Rowland Hill's own mind and was an
incentive to his efforts while he was working out his scheme, is
suggested by a comparison of dates. Sir Rowland Hill's plan was
published in 1837. In September 1830 the Liverpool and Manchester
Railway was opened: in 1833 the London and Birmingham, now the London
and North-Western, opened its first section, and by the year 1837 there
were in existence the beginnings of the South-Eastern, the London and
South-Western, the Great Western, and the Great Eastern Railways, all
known at that date under much less ambitious titles. Mr. F. E. Baines,
C.B., in his vivid and entertaining book, _Forty Years at the Post
Office_, has described the death of the old and the birth of the new
system on the Great North Road. As late as April 1838 the high-road held
its traffic, but from the date of the opening from London of the first
considerable section of the Birmingham railway the fate of the highway
was settled, “for then began this fell opponent to sap the long traffic
of the Great North Road.”

It is curious now to know that one of the objections raised to the mails
going by railway was the doubt that trains could journey by night. No
less a person than the President of the Society of Engineers at that
time said, “If mails and passengers were conveyed, policemen would be
required along the line during the night.” Policemen, indeed, were
stationed on the Leeds and Selby line until the night train had passed.
Other authorities were of opinion that the lines would have to be lit up
throughout with gas or other lights.

The agitation for Penny Postage arose out of the excessive and unequal
charges and the abuses which had grown up in order to evade the charges.
The Post Office had achieved wonders during the early years of the
nineteenth century in speeding up the mails and in the organisation of
the service. But there had been no attempt during that time to change
materially the system of charging letters and newspapers sent by post.
The root idea at the back of the old system was payment by distance and
on delivery of the posted packet. It is unnecessary to give a table of
the different charges which were in existence; it is enough to supply
only two illustrations. A single letter between London and Edinburgh or
Glasgow cost 1s. 3½d. The average produce of a letter in 1837 was about
7d.

To a large proportion of the poorer people of this country the charges
were an almost prohibitive burden. Weight, of course, was also a
considerable factor in determining the rate, and there is an instance of
a packet weighing 32 ounces which was sent from Deal to London and the
postage was £6, four times as much as the charge for an inside place by
the coach. A large amount of irregular carriage of letters was
continually going on; and there were other means of evading the charges.
There is the familiar instance of Coleridge, who, when wandering through
the Lake District one day, saw a poor woman refuse a letter which the
postman offered her. Coleridge, out of sympathy for the poor woman, paid
the money she could not raise, but the letter when opened proved to be a
blank sheet of paper not intended for acceptance but sent by her son,
according to preconcerted agreement, as a sign that he was well.
Smuggling in letters was practised almost openly, not only by private
individuals but by large firms. A publisher and school agent openly
boasted that he adopted evasions of the postal laws which enabled him to
receive letters from Glasgow for 2d. on which the Post Office would have
levied at least 1s. 1d. Out of every 236 private letters which he
received, 169 came to him otherwise than by post. A man starting on a
tour in Scotland arranged with his family a plan for informing them of
his progress and state of health without putting them to the expense of
postage. It was managed in this way. He carried with him a number of old
newspapers, one of which he put into the post daily. The postmark with
the date showed his progress, and the state of his health was shown by
the selection of the names from a list previously agreed upon with which
the newspaper was franked. Sir Rowland Hill told the story, and he said
he remembered that the name of Sir Francis Burdett denoted “Vigorous
health.”

Then there was the franking privilege, by means of which all letters
franked by peers and members of Parliament went free. Members of
Parliament sometimes signed franks by the packet and gave them to
constituents and friends. A trade was actually carried on in franks by
the servants of members of Parliament, and their practice was to ask
their masters to sign the franks in great numbers at a time. Forgery of
franks was a frequent offence. About seventy years ago an old Irish lady
informed a Post Office servant that she seldom paid any postage for
letters, and that her correspondence never cost her friends anything.
The official asked her how she managed this. “Oh,” she said, “I just
wrote 'Fred. Suttie' in the corner of the cover of the letter and then,
sure, nothing more was charged for it.” She was asked, “Were you not
afraid of being hanged for forgery?” “Oh, dear, no,” she replied,
“nobody ever heard of a lady being hanged in Ireland, and troth I did
just what everybody else did.”

The system of payment on delivery of a letter was the cause of perpetual
delays and numerous frauds. When a postman was obliged to collect at
every house the necessary postage, it was extremely difficult to
regulate his rounds. The temptation to defraud the Post Office, his
master, was also frequently yielded to by him.

A large amount of money was every year obviously being lost to the Post
Office in these different ways. A public opinion was in existence that
the charges of the Post Office were unjust and excessive, and the moral
sense of the community was not always alive enough to recognise any
wrong in dodging the Government.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: MAIL COACH AND TRAIN.]

      When railways were in their infancy part of the journey of a
      mail was sometimes performed by coach and part by train. At
      the point where the railway began the coach was placed on a
      truck, which was coupled to the train.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

To put the matter briefly, the rate for a single inland letter in 1837
was 4d. for 15 miles, 6d. for 30 miles, 7d. for 50 miles, and so on up
to 1s. for each additional hundred miles: in certain places only was
there a local penny post, and in London there were twopenny and
threepenny posts. Each person in the United Kingdom received on an
average only five posted packets a year. This was the year when the
change from mail coach to mail train was most marked. A mail was
conveyed from London to Liverpool and Manchester in 16½ hours: the
secret of the speed was that the mail was carried by coach from London
to Birmingham, and there put on the railway which was open to Liverpool
and Manchester. The last of the mail coaches, that from Norwich and
Newmarket, arrived in London on the 6th January 1846.

The Reform Bill had been passed, a reforming Government was in power,
and measures of social amelioration were being discussed in all
quarters. Trade and commerce were making strides, the habit of travel
was growing with the people, and the need for simpler and easier methods
of communicating with one another was urgent. There was a grand
opportunity for a postal reformer. And the need of the time brought
forth the man.

There had been postal reformers before Rowland Hill. First of all in
time and distinction was Witherings, who lived in the middle of the
seventeenth century. He became Master of the Posts in 1637, and he
introduced a far-reaching system of postal rates, which before had been
extremely casual and excessive. He made the Post Office a paying
concern. He created the Post Office as we know it to-day. Then there was
Dockwra, who established a penny post for the London district which
existed 120 years. Only in the price had this reform any relation to Sir
Rowland Hill's scheme, which was based on the idea that a uniform charge
should cover any distance travelled. Dockwra's system was of course
limited to short distances. Another great name in Post Office history is
Ralph Allen, the Postmaster of Bath in 1719, who organised a system of
cross posts all over the country. And in the first chapter I mentioned
the achievements of Palmer, who established the mail-coach service.

Rowland Hill was born in 1795 at Kidderminster, and he began life as a
schoolmaster. Very early he showed great talents as an organiser: his
bent was towards mathematics, and he became secretary of Gibbon
Wakefield's scheme for colonising South Australia. In this capacity his
attention was specially directed to the abuses of our postal system. He
approached the study of the system as an outsider: indeed until after
his reform had been carried he had not been inside the walls of the
General Post Office. He collected statistics, and it was the discovery
that the length of a letter's journey made no appreciable difference to
the cost of that journey which led him to think of uniformity of rates.
He showed, for instance, that the cost of the mail-coach service for one
journey between London and Edinburgh was about £5 a day. He then worked
out the average load of the mail at six hundredweight, the cost of each
hundredweight being therefore 16s. 8d. Taking the average weight of a
letter at a quarter of an ounce, the cost of carriage over the 400 miles
was 1/36 part of a penny. Yet the actual postal charge was 1s. 3½d.

From the first the plan of Rowland Hill gained the support of the
people, but he had to face a long and bitter opposition from the
official chiefs of the Post Office and from the vested interests which
were threatened by his action. Lord Lichfield, the Postmaster-General at
the time, said, as an argument against the idea, that the mails would
have to carry twelve times as much in weight as before, and therefore
the cost would be twelve times the amount they paid. “The walls of the
Post Office,” he exclaimed, “would burst, the whole area in which the
building stands would not be large enough to receive the clerks and
letters.” Increase of business would mean a loss, not a gain, and Lord
Lichfield had not the optimism of the old Irishwoman who, when
endeavouring to sell her fowls, exclaimed, “I lose on every fowl I sell,
but thank the Lord I sell a lot.”

Sir Rowland Hill asked Lord Lichfield very pertinently whether the size
of the building should be regulated by the amount of correspondence or
the amount of correspondence by the size of the building.

One of the most curious arguments was that the British public would
object to prepayment, that it was contrary to their habits and customs.
There was no doubt something to be said for the idea that when you wrote
a letter you had all the trouble, and you were conferring a benefit on
your friend, who ought to be prepared to pay for it.

The plan triumphed. The Committee appointed to consider it recommended
its adoption, and it was incorporated in the Budget of 1839. Lord
Melbourne was the Prime Minister, and though not enthusiastic, was
favourable. The strong feelings aroused in official circles are
suggested by Lord Melbourne's remark after interviewing the
Postmaster-General the day before the Bill was introduced into the House
of Lords. “Lichfield has been here,” said Lord Melbourne. “Why a man
cannot talk of penny postage without getting into a passion, passes my
understanding.”

The Bill received the royal assent on the 17th August 1839, and after a
preliminary experiment had been tried of a uniform rate of 1d. for
London and 4d. for the rest of the country, in order to accustom the
clerks to the system, a uniform rate of 1d. for letters not exceeding
half an ounce was introduced on the 10th January. This was a busy day at
post offices all over the country, and the opportunity was seized by
hundreds of people to write letters to one another in honour of the
occasion. About 112,000 packets were posted in London. A large number of
letters were also written to Rowland Hill himself from all parts of the
country, congratulating him and thanking him for his efforts. Tradesmen
and business men were especially grateful for the Bill. Moreover the
reform opened the doors of the Post Office to the poorer classes. The
postman after 1840 was, it was said, “making long rounds through humble
districts where heretofore his knock was rarely heard.”

Rowland Hill was appointed to a post at the Treasury in 1840, in order
to superintend the introduction of his scheme. He retired, however, in
1842, after Lord Melbourne's Ministry went out of office. On the return
of the Liberals to power in 1846 he was appointed one of the Secretaries
to the Postmaster-General, and in the same year he was presented by the
public with £13,360 in gratitude for his services. In 1854 he was made
Chief Secretary of the Post Office, and in 1862 he received the honour
of knighthood. When he retired from the Post Office in 1864 he received
from Parliament a grant of £20,000, and he was also allowed to retain
his full salary of £2000 a year as retiring pension. In 1864 he received
the degree of D.C.L. from the University of Oxford, and in 1879 he was
granted the freedom of the City of London. He died in August of the same
year, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

Many and great were the reforms introduced into the Post Office during
Sir Rowland Hill's period of service as Secretary. In his letter of
retirement addressed to the Lords of the Treasury in 1864, he gave an
account of his stewardship in a statement entitled “Results of Post
Office Reform.” If we quote largely from this document it will be to
show what Sir Rowland Hill claimed to have done, and it will also help
the reader to understand from his own experience how far the Post Office
has advanced since Sir Rowland Hill's day. First of all, Sir Rowland
claimed “a very large reduction in the rates of postage on all
correspondence, whether inland, foreign, or colonial. As instances in
point it may be stated that letters are now conveyed from any part of
the United Kingdom to any other part—even from the Channel Islands to
the Shetland Isles—at one-fourth of the charge previously levied on
letters passing between post towns only a few miles apart, and that the
rate formerly charged for the slight distance—viz. fourpence—now
suffices to carry a letter from any part of the United Kingdom to any
part of France, Algeria included.”

Then Sir Rowland claimed “the almost universal resort to prepayment of
correspondence, and that by means of stamps,” the establishment of the
book post, the reduction in the fee for registered letters from 1s. to
4d., a reduction in the price of money orders combined with a great
extension and improvement of the system, a more frequent and more rapid
communication between the Metropolis and the larger provincial towns, as
also between one provincial town and another, a vast extension of the
rural distribution, and many other facilities for the public, including
the establishment of Post Office Savings Banks. He goes on to say: “The
expectations I held out before the change were that eventually under the
operation of my plans the number of letters would increase fivefold, the
gross revenue would be the same as before, while the net revenue would
sustain a loss of about £300,000. The actual figures show that the
letters have increased not fivefold but nearly eight and a half fold,
that the gross revenue, instead of remaining the same, has increased by
about £1,500,000; while the net revenue, instead of falling £300,000,
has risen more than £100,000.”

This was written more than twenty years after the introduction of penny
postage, but it must not be supposed that the reform was an immediate
financial success. The last complete year (1839) of the old system of
high rates yielded a profit of £1,659,000. The first complete year of
the new system produced only £500,789. But in two years the number of
chargeable letters passing through the post had increased from
72,000,000 per annum to 208,000,000, and in a few years the profit of
1839 had been passed.

Sir Rowland was a fighter and reformer to the last. Like all men who
accomplish great things, he was exceedingly self-confident and impatient
of opposition. The official mind works from precedent to precedent, and
Sir Rowland proposed to make all things new. Effort after effort was
made to push him aside without any lasting success. He was dismissed
from the Treasury in the second year of penny postage, at a time when
its very success seemed to depend on friends, not foes, directing the
organisation. Thomas Hood wrote to him: “I have seen so many instances
of folly and ingratitude similar to those you have met with that it
would never surprise me to hear of the railway people, some day, finding
their trains running on so well, proposing to discharge the engines.” It
was more in obedience to the feeling of the country than to any liking
for the reformer that the Government of the day appointed him to the
Post Office four years after his dismissal from the Treasury.

Sir Rowland was always perhaps a little uncomfortable as a Post Office
chief. He was in the midst of men against whom he had been working for
years, and there are many stories in existence of his caustic way of
dealing with his staff. Anthony Trollope, who was in the service of the
Post Office at the time, ventured one day to point out to Sir Rowland
that the language in a certain report, if literally construed, might be
held to mean what was not intended. Sir Rowland replied: “You must be
aware, Mr. Trollope, that a phrase is not always intended to bear a
literal construction. For instance, when I write to one of you
gentlemen, I end my letter with the words, 'I am, Sir, your obedient
servant,' whereas you know I am nothing of the sort.” Indeed nobody
could have used this official phrase with less sincerity than Sir
Rowland Hill.

But I like best this story of Rowland Hill in the evening of his days,
after he had retired from the Post Office. It is pleasant to think of
him still absorbed in the subject which had made his name a household
word. His daughter, in her biography of him, tells us that whenever he
met any foreign visitors, he was bound sooner or later to ask them about
postal matters in their own country. He met Garibaldi at a banquet, and
the inevitable question was put to him, but Sir Rowland could not work
up any interest on the part of the Italian statesman in the matter. Sir
Rowland complained to his brother of his disappointment in Garibaldi; he
evidently thought him an over-rated man, especially in the matter of
intelligence, and the brother replied, “When you go to heaven I foresee
that you will stop at the gate to inquire of St. Peter how many
deliveries they have a day, and how the expense of postal communication
between heaven and the other place is defrayed.”

It was of course this absorption in his subject which gave him the
victory. Penny Postage was probably inevitable, even if there had been
no Rowland Hill in this country. Railways alone made a change in the
postal service necessary, but it is to the lasting credit of Sir Rowland
that he obtained the reform years before it would otherwise have been
achieved. He carried the reform by assault, and the nation might have
waited long years before the vested interests in the old system had
given way to the needs of the nation. “Loss to the revenue” was the
argument chiefly directed against Sir Rowland Hill's scheme: it is the
argument still used when further concessions are asked for by the
public. The reply that the Post Office exists for the convenience of the
public is not always appreciated by the Chancellor of the Exchequer for
the time being. He looks to the Post Office to provide him annually with
a substantial sum of money. Perhaps the complete vindication of Sir
Rowland Hill lies in the fact that roughly speaking the whole of the
annual surplus from the Post Office at the present day is derived from
the writer of the penny inland letter.




                              CHAPTER III
                    LOMBARD STREET AND ST. MARTIN'S
                                LE GRAND

Nothing will give the reader a better idea of the advances made by the
Post Office during the last two hundred years than a comparison of the
various buildings which have from time to time been the home of the
General Post Office in London. The story of the buildings is one of
continued growth and expansion right down to the present day. The
General Post Office is always becoming too small and inconvenient for
its work. And there has scarcely been any period when it was not
necessary to rent overflow premises to meet the growing needs of the
times.

As I have already pointed out, the system of posts in the time of the
Tudors was used chiefly for the conveyance of Government despatches. The
Master of the Posts was a Court official, and there was no need for a
public office in London. The extension of postal business, especially
between London and the Continent, required, however, in the later years
of the sixteenth century, an office in the City of London, and according
to _Stow's Survey_ a post office was first established in Cloak Lane,
near Dowgate Hill. This is the hill on which Cannon Street Station now
stands, and it was also the centre of Roman London. The necessity of the
foreign post was one of the reasons for the creation of the office, and
it is a link between this time and our own that the continental mail
train now starts from Cannon Street Station. Scarcely anything is known
of this post office except the bare fact of its existence.

From Dowgate Hill the General Post Office was removed, at some date in
the first half of the seventeenth century, to the sign of the Black Swan
in Bishopsgate. These were most probably what we now call licensed
premises: at any rate Pepys has recorded that on one occasion he went
“to the musique-meeting at the Post Office.” Then happened the Great
Plague of 1664-1665, and we have the benefit of a report from the senior
officer as to the way in which the visitation affected the Post Office.
“That dureing the late dreadfull sickness when many of the members of
the office desert the same and that betweene 20 and 30 of the members
dyed thereof, your petitioner, considering rather the dispatch of your
Majesty's service than the preservation of himself and family, did
hazard them all, and continued all that woefull tyme in the said office
to give dispatch and conveyance to your Majesty's letters and pacquetts,
and to preserve your revenue arising from the same.” The writer was
evidently a pushful official who expected recognition of his services,
and in yet a fuller petition for a reward for keeping the Post Office
open during the Plague he begs that he may have an order to the
Commissioners of Prizes to deliver to him some brown and white sugar
granted to him by His Majesty from the ship _Espérance_ of Nantes,
condemned as a prize at Plymouth. I hope he obtained his sugar: in our
days we should have made him a K.C.B. Then came the Great Fire of 1666,
and the Post Office was burnt out. In an old newspaper of 1666 may be
seen this advertisement: “The General Post Office is for the present
held at the Two Black Pillars in Bridges Street over against the Fleece
Tavern, Covent Garden, till a more convenient Place can be found in
London.”

As soon as the City was rebuilt “the more convenient Place” was found in
a house in Lombard Street, and by the year 1680, if not earlier, the
General Post Office moved into its new premises. The house had been the
private residence of Sir Robert Viner, a city dignitary who had been
Lord Mayor of London, and it was rented from him. This was the home of
the Head Office for nearly 150 years. Comparatively little is known of
the history of this office, and a writer to whom I am indebted for much
of my information writes justly “that one cannot escape a feeling half
of wonder and half of shame that so few records should remain of an
office where possibly Milton and certainly Dryden posted their letters.”
But what we do know about this office is exceedingly interesting.

There were officials occupying positions which go by the same name as at
the present day. There were the Postmasters-General, a dual office which
in the early part of the eighteenth century was non-political, and the
Postmasters-General were entitled to live at the General Post Office and
to have free coals, candles, and tinware. There was a Receiver-General
with a salary of £150, an Accountant-General with a salary of £200, a
Comptroller of the Inland Office, six Clerks of the Roads, a Secretary
to the Postmaster-General, and a Postmaster-General's Clerk. Positions
which are not known in these days were Windowman and Alphabet
Keeper—this man handed out letters to callers, and his other title
probably referred to the pigeon-holes in which the letters were kept.
There was a “Mail Maker”—a maker of leather bags for letters—the Stores
Department in its early beginnings—and there were three Letter Bringers.
One official known as the Ratcatcher received £1 a year for his useful
services, another man described as a “Scavenger” received £3, 6s. a year
and was in charge of the drainage, which was probably below suspicion.

But perhaps the difference between these times and our own is most
directly marked by two entries in the accounts of the period. There were
two allowances of £30 each for beer for clerks and sorters, and once a
year at least £20 was allowed for a feast for the resident clerks. This
was usually held on the King's Birthday, and “the musique-meeting” at
the Post Office which Pepys attended may have been one of these feasts.
In an old newspaper of 1708 there is an account of one of the feasts,
and the text of one of the songs is given. The writer says: “Some of the
songs were made up as letters, and the Postboy blowing his horn rode
into the Hall to the surprise of all that were present and distributed
his letters from Parnassus. Indeed the people might very well be
surprised, it being a country where hardly any one could think we held
any correspondence. At the same time that the boy sounded his horn, Mr.
—— rose up and sung the song.” The author of the particular song,
extracts from which we give, was stated to hold “a very genteel place in
the General Post Office relating to the Foreign letters, being master of
several languages.” Truth, however, compels us to state his salary was
only £40 a year. Here are two verses of “A Song Performed at the Post
Office Feast on Her Majesty's Birthday 1708. Written by Mr. Motteux, set
by Mr. Leveridge:”—

          “Room, room for the Post, who with zeal for the Queen
          Like Pegasus flies, tho' his scrub is but lean,
                  Tho' dirty or dusty,
                  Tho' thirsty yet trusty,
                  The restless knight-errant,
                  While Anna's his warrant,
        (True knight of the road) of high honours can boast,
        The greatest of subjects give way to the post.

        _Chorus_

          With a twee-we-we, twee-we-we think it no scorn,
          Cits, soldiers, and courtiers give way to the horn.

          The secrets we hand, of the fair and the great,
          And join, spite of distance, each region and state,
                  All nations and quarters,
                  Dutch, Irish, and Tartars,
                  The bonny North Briton,
                  And more I can't hit on.
        Of all our Queen's subjects none serve her so fast,
        For still in her service we're all in post haste.

        _Chorus_

          With a twee-we-we, twee we-we, &c.”

In a little book entitled _A Picture of London in 1808_ I have found the
following delightful passage relating to the London Post Office: “It is
the most important spot on the surface of the globe. It receives
information from the Poles.” This is rather wide of the mark, seeing
that both Poles were then undiscovered. The next statement may have been
nearer the truth: “It distributes instructions to the Antipodes.” And we
seem to get out of our depth farther on: “It is in the highest degree
hitherto realised the seat of terrestrial perceptions and volition. It
is the brain of the whole earth.” But all this tall language was used
for a purpose. The object was to draw attention to a public scandal and
to bring before the notice of people the miserable accommodation which
the State provided for her wise and brainy servants. For the writer asks
us to look on the other side of the picture. “The building is hidden in
a narrow alley, misshapen even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to
the very mail coaches which collect there for their nightly freights.”

It was indeed the introduction of the mail coach which made the Lombard
Street office unsuitable for its purpose. The coaches were obliged to
stand in the street itself, and only two or three could be in place at
the same time. Various sites were suggested for the new office, and as
increased space was the great necessity, it was decided to clear away
the rookeries which existed in the liberty of St. Martin's and to build
there. The district had deteriorated lamentably since the days of the
College of St. Martin's le Grand which stood there for several
centuries, and which has an interesting and distinguished history. The
district has older associations still, and during the clearing of the
sites for the Post Office buildings many interesting remains of the
Roman occupation of London were found. In 1818 a very ancient vaulted
chamber, built in part of Roman materials, which had been previously
concealed beneath the more modern houses, was exposed to view. Sections
of the Roman wall have also been discovered, and many other remains,
probably of a later date, built out of Roman materials. The College of
St. Martin's le Grand possessed the privilege of sanctuary, and this
fact may have explained the evil repute of the neighbourhood. It became
a rogues' quarter, and great must have been the relief of Londoners when
a statute of James I. abolished all privileges of sanctuary. Yet the
inhabitants seem to have been able to retain many privileges. They
retained their own court for the trial of minor offences: they could
keep the place as filthy as they liked until it became a breeding-place
for the plague, which regularly broke out at intervals during the
seventeenth century, and they appointed their own police or watchmen.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: St. Martin's le Grand]

      A street at St. Martin's le Grand before the clearances were
      made for the General Post Office. The district originally
      possessed the privilege of sanctuary, and was, in the early
      part of the nineteenth century, one of the most disreputable
      localities in London.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The site was purchased by the City with duties levied on coals brought
into London. And the Government obtained the property from the City at a
cost of £240,000.

It is amusing to notice, in the report of the Committee which considered
the question of the new building, how afraid its members were that in
the desire for beauty of style the question of utility would be
neglected. Post Office architects have seldom needed this caution.
“Ornamental decorations introduced for the mere purpose of
embellishment, and unconcerned with utility, while they prodigiously
enhance the cost, rarely produce an effect in point of elegance and
grandeur which can compensate for it.” And yet again, “an office for the
receiving and delivery of letters which should be concealed behind a
front fit for a palace, and flanked by triumphal arches, would present
an incongruity no less offensive to good taste than inconsistent with
rational economy.” Here speaks the voice which in the early years of the
nineteenth century produced so many evil results in street architecture.

The architect of the new building was Mr. Smirke, and it is certainly to
his credit that he was not unduly influenced by the recommendations of
the Committee. The site covered two acres, and the clearance displaced a
thousand inhabitants. It swept away numbers of alleys and courts, and
when the building itself was opened in 1829 it at once took its place as
a great addition to the architectural beauty of the City of London.
Everybody who has visited London must be familiar with at least the
exterior of the building. It was designed to meet the needs of the mail
coach service, yet no sooner was the building opened than the sound of
railways began to be heard in the land. But for nearly ten years the
mail coaches started from St. Martin's le Grand, and traces of this era
can be seen in the drive which goes round the building with an open
courtyard at the north end. The Bull and Mouth Yard where the coaches
were made up was opposite.

One of the features of the building was a lofty central hall, and
through it was a public thoroughfare to Foster Lane. The letters were
posted in this hall, and the scene at six o'clock was always one of
great animation. Little by little as the needs of the service became
different and more pressing, the internal architecture of St. Martin's
le Grand was altered almost beyond recognition. The great hall was
closed, and the space thrown into the Sorting Office. “No indignity that
can possibly be heaped on the poor old thing can add to its
disfigurement,” wrote Mr. R. W. Johnston, an admirer of the original
building. And he added: “The place has been practically disembowelled,
and what has been taken out of the bottom has been placed on the top,
with the result that an absolutely pure design has been converted into a
nondescript of the most extraordinary character.” This was inevitable
from the point of view of utility, but the constant patching up could
not go on indefinitely. In later years the letter and newspaper branches
of the service monopolised the whole of the old building, but in its
early days it took in practically the whole of the Head Office. Here
worked Colonel Maberley, who had been Sir Rowland Hill's chief official
opponent; here worked later the two men together rather uncomfortably,
and with little in common.

Just as in the case of Lombard Street, the story of St. Martin's le
Grand would be incomplete without some attempt to realise the human
elements which went to make up its life during the years of its prime.
The Post Office has always suffered in reputation both in the eyes of
the public and of the Treasury from the accepted idea that its duties
are mainly confined to sorting letters. Gentlemen high up in the
Secretarial Department have sometimes been asked seriously by their
friends whether they had noticed some particular letter in the course of
its transmission through the post. The public scarcely realise the
amount of financial and technical knowledge required on the part of men
who have to organise the service, to enter into contracts with railways
and steamship companies, or to preserve the discipline of the vast staff
in town and country. This was the kind of work done at St. Martin's le
Grand, and the men of the early and mid-Victorian period were workers in
the full sense of the word.

The old riddle, “Why are Civil Servants like the fountains in Trafalgar
Square?” with the answer, “Because they play from ten to four,” has
never applied to the Post Office. The needs of the service forbade any
slackness, and punctuality has always been a realised ideal. West End
offices have frequently looked on aghast at the zeal and industry of St.
Martin's le Grand. I remember a post office clerk telling me one day of
an official call he had to make at the Colonial Office in the days
before Mr. Chamberlain put new life into that Department. “I arrived
there at a quarter to eleven, and found the door shut, and as I was
hunting around to find the visitors' bell, a milkman bore towards me and
said, 'I don't think they're up yet, sir,' so I took a turn round the
Park and at ten minutes past eleven I went back again, and finding the
charwoman had just started work, I explained to her my errand, and asked
her to tell the Secretary of State that I was on the mat. ‘Oh,’ said
she, ‘I don’t think anybody's come yet. We don't begin till eleven.’ But
I merely ventured to point out that the Horse Guards’ clock was nearly a
quarter past eleven. Then this pampered menial drew herself up, and with
a look of scorn, replied, daresay you are right, young man, but the
gentlemen in this orfis don’t bind theirselves to be ’ere on the stroke
of the hour.’ That was the difference between the City and the West End;
the gentlemen of the Post Office bound themselves to be at their posts
at the hour, and to come early and to stay late.

Officials have worked at St. Martin's le Grand who were men of letters
in two senses of the word. Anthony Trollope began his career as a post
office clerk here, and the insistence on punctuality was his chief
difficulty. He could not be punctual, and though he said he could write
official letters rapidly, correctly, and to the purpose, the steady,
young, punctual but much less efficient clerk was usually preferred
before him. But Trollope was a very difficult official to deal with. He
says in his _Autobiography_: “I have no doubt that I made myself
disagreeable. I know that I sometimes tried to be so.” And yet for many
years he was an exceedingly useful public servant, and was frequently
engaged on special work for the department. An old colleague of his has
described Trollope's method of doing his official work. “I have seen him
slogging away at papers at a stand-up desk with his handkerchief stuffed
into his mouth and his hair on end, as though he could barely contain
himself.” He was very overbearing and intolerant in his manner, and was
certainly not popular at the Post Office. There is on record, however,
one occasion when he must have been unusually pleasant. He was the clerk
in waiting one evening, and a message came to him that the Queen of
Saxony wanted to see the night mails sent out by the mail coaches. This
was one of the sights of London at the time, and Trollope acted the part
of showman. When he had finished he was handed half-a-crown by one of
the suite. This, he said, was a bad moment for him.

“Why don't you pay an old woman sixpence a week to fret for you?” he
said to a postmaster who came to him with grievances. The postmaster
left his presence with an additional grievance that Mr. Trollope was a
brute.

Sir Rowland Hill might have agreed with this postmaster, for he could
never get on with Trollope. We can scarcely be surprised. In his
_Autobiography_, Trollope says of Sir Rowland that “it was a pleasure to
me to differ from Sir Rowland Hill on all occasions, and looking back
now, I think that in all such differences I was right.” Such a
confession explains much of Trollope's unpopularity. There is no place
where omniscience is less appreciated than in a Government office. Mr.
O'Connor Morris, who was the Postmaster-General of Jamaica when Trollope
visited the island in 1858, has left on record this judgment on the
novelist's official conduct to him. “I believe Mr. Trollope had a
thousand good qualities of head and heart, which were disguised in a
most unfortunate and repelling manner.”

Edmund Yates also worked at St. Martin's le Grand, and he has described
very graphically the kind of scene which usually took place when
Trollope was interviewing Sir Rowland Hill. “Trollope would bluster and
rave and roar, blowing and spluttering like a grampus, while the pale
old gentleman opposite him, sitting back in his arm-chair and regarding
his antagonist furtively under his spectacles, would remain perfectly
quiet until he saw his chance, and then deliver himself of the most
unpleasant speech he could frame in the hardest possible tone.”

There is a good story told of Yates himself. The Post Office Library was
founded in 1858. There were many unredressed grievances among the
clerical staff in those days, and when Mr. Rowland Hill undertook to
give a lecture on astronomy to the Library subscribers, a practical if
somewhat unfair opportunity seemed given to the clerks to bring their
necessities before the chief. Mr. Hill asked for a shilling from his
audience in order to illustrate an eclipse. He wished to pass it between
the eye and a lamp. Busy fingers went diving into purses and pockets for
moons. After two or three minutes waiting Mr. Hill beheld an array of
blank faces and shaking heads, and he naturally looked puzzled. Then
Edmund Yates arose. “I beg to explain, sir, that we are all very anxious
to try the experiment which you suggest, but unfortunately we cannot
find a shilling among us.” On the whole we may wonder what type of man
Sir Rowland Hill found the most trying to deal with at the Post Office,
the man of genius or the hidebound official.

In the days before competitive examinations and the abolition of
patronage, there were more “characters” and “individualities” in the
Post Office service than in these degenerate days. St. Martin's le Grand
has had its share of officials who were men of the world, men of
letters, and eccentric men. Frank Ives Scudamore, the author of _Day
Dreams of a Sleepless Man_ and much light verse, will always be
remembered at the Post Office as a chief who did everything
magnificently and on the grand scale: even in his failures he was great.
And everybody who worked under him seemed to catch his enthusiasm for
work.

But we must leave these personal matters and get back to the buildings.
With the acquirement of the telegraphs by the State, and the necessity
for devoting an entire building to the London Postal Service, the
erection of another big office became imperative. The building known as
G.P.O. West was completed in 1873, and for a long time it provided
accommodation for the Secretary's, Solicitor's, Engineer-in-chief's, and
Central Telegraph Offices, together with a portion of the Receiver and
Accountant Generals' Department.

In twenty years the need for extension became again pressing, and in
1895 the huge building known as G.P.O. North was opened. G.P.O. West was
then given up to the Telegraph Service, and all the administrative
offices were transferred to G.P.O. North. But these three immense
buildings even in 1894 were by no means large enough to hold all the
activities of the Post Office. The Parcel Post, the Money and Postal
Order Departments, and the Post Office Savings Bank Department were all
housed in other parts of the City of London, and there were overflow
premises in streets near St. Martin's le Grand.

In this chapter we are only concerned with St. Martin's le Grand, and it
is not without regret for the severance of old ties that Londoners
witnessed in 1910 the closing of Smirke's fine post office, and the
migration of the staff to King Edward's Building, henceforth to be the
home of the London Postal Service. Not a hundred years had passed since
the move from Lombard Street, and the Post Office had become a small
nation of itself. And this body of men and women has for years regarded
St Martin's le Grand as the metropolis of their nation, and when they
have stood under the big clock which has seen so many mails arrive and
depart, they have felt that they were citizens of no mean city.




                               CHAPTER IV
                         KING EDWARD'S BUILDING


In every big town the post office is now one of the most important,
while in some cases it is the most imposing of all the local public
buildings. Here the head postmaster is to be found, and here all the
post office business of the district is administered. People have often
asked me, “Who is the postmaster of London?” They understand that the
Postmaster-General and the Secretary have their offices at St. Martin's
le Grand, but it is evident that these gentlemen are the supreme heads
of the whole Post Office system, and are not specially concerned with
London. “Is there not a postmaster of London, just as there is one of
Birmingham and of Liverpool?” The answer is that there is a London head
postmaster, but his official title is Controller of the London Postal
Service. Until a comparatively recent period he shared a building with
the Postmaster-General and Secretary, and the dignity of his office was
perhaps a little obscured by the presence of the greater luminaries.
Latterly, however, the old building at St. Martin's le Grand became
practically the chief London post office, and all the big administrative
departments moved to the other side of the road. But old associations
take long to die, and I do not think that even Post Office servants have
ever looked upon the old building as belonging specially to London; they
have thought of it still as a portion of the big administrative
department which has monopolised so much of the district of St. Martin's
le Grand.

It is not therefore merely a fancy of my own that for the first time
London possesses in King Edward's Building a head post office which is
worthy of her, and which bears the same relations to the London district
as the post office in Liverpool does to the Liverpool district. London
is the biggest city in the world; it now possesses the biggest post
office in the world. That is as it should be. It is London's chief
office in a way that the old building never was. It has been built for
London, and is fitted up entirely to meet the needs of London. Nobody
who knows the old building could have said this of the inconvenient and
out-of-date structure which was built for other times and other
purposes.

The site of the new building covers ground which up to the beginning of
the thirteenth century was one of the numerous vacant spaces in the
north-west portion of the area enclosed by the Roman wall which went
round the City of London. This wall, it is conjectured, was built
between A.D. 350 and A.D. 369, only about half a century before Rome
withdrew her legions from Britain. It belongs, therefore, to the later
period of the Roman occupation of this country. A large section of this
wall was discovered by the workmen when digging the foundations for King
Edward's building, and it extended for about 400 feet. Most of this had
to be destroyed and carried away, but a fine bastion at the western
angle has been preserved, and can be inspected by visitors. The wall is
built in the usual Roman method, and is composed of Kentish ragstone
from the Maidstone district. In the ditch which ran outside the wall
were discovered a number of Norman and mediæval relics, and within the
wall many Roman remains. The section of wall laid bare by the workmen
was found underneath the playground and dining-hall of Christ's
Hospital, known to us all as the Bluecoat School. The school removed
from the building some years ago into the country, and the site was then
sold and divided between Bartholomew's Hospital and the General Post
Office.

The foundation stone of the new post office was laid by King Edward VII.
on the 10th October 1905, and it was opened for public business on the
7th November 1910. The building is constructed of Portland cement
concrete, strengthened by bars of steel, on what is known as the
Hennibique reinforced concrete system, and it is the largest building
that has yet been erected on this plan. It is an all-in-one-piece
building, fashioned out of Thames ballast and cement. Not a single steel
joist has been used in the centre construction. Barge after barge from
Rotherhithe landed at Blackfriars the mud chalk and gravel which
dredgers had scooped up in the lower reaches of the Thames. This ballast
was carted direct to King Edward Street, passed through a machine which
sorts the stones into various sizes, and then turned into liquid
concrete by another wonderful machine which mixes sand, cement, and
stones together at a rapid rate. The steel rods and bars interlacing one
another extend in a network throughout the building like the skeleton of
an animal, while the entire system is embedded in a perfectly connected
sheath of concrete. The great feature in this system is the immense
reduction in wall thickness. The effect is seen in the lightness and
airy nature of the building; one's first impression is that it is
certainly not built for eternity, as somebody said the granite
structures of Aberdeen are.

But this is an illusion: the concrete increases in strength as time goes
on, and the passing years only make the building stronger and more
capable of resisting weather and the strain of the loads which it has
daily to carry.

Wattles and mud were the building materials of our remote ancestors, and
it has been said that we are reverting to the old method, only British
mud has given place to British concrete, concrete of Thames ballast and
Portland cement. The outer walls are only 7 inches thick, but the
frontages to King Edward Street and Newgate Street are faced with
Portland stone with granite plinths. To see fully the effect of the
reinforced concrete in building one has to examine the back elevations,
where there are no stone facings. But even with its false but ornamental
front the building has nothing of “the solemn and spacious Greek charm
of the delightful old front in St. Martin's le Grand.” The Post Office
gains in spaciousness and utility what it loses in architectural beauty.

The building consists at present of two parts, a block facing King
Edward Street which contains, on the ground floor, the new Public
Office, and on the four upper floors the offices of the Controller of
the London Postal Service. The other is a much larger block containing
the main sorting offices both for foreign and colonial correspondence,
and for the E.C. or City district.

The actual foundation is only 3 feet in depth, and not one of the floors
is more than 3½ inches in thickness.

Between the two blocks is a loading and unloading yard for the mails,
and on the west side of the second block is a large yard and unoccupied
space left for such future additions as may be required for growth of
work. The Post Office is learning from experience the value of the
margin, and that there is no finality in its advances. It is in this
open space below the level of the ground where is to be found the
section of the Roman wall which I have described.

The public office is the central office in London for the transaction by
the public of all classes of postal and telegraphic business. It is the
largest public post office in the country, and measures 152 feet by 52
feet, with a counter running the whole length. The inside walls are
lined throughout with marble; a green Irish marble being used for the
dado, pilasters, panels, door architraves, and the front of the counter,
and a light Italian marble for the remainder. The pilasters and piers
have bases and capitals of bronze, and bronze is also used for the
counter edges, table edges, and electric light fittings.

All this is unaccustomed magnificence for a London post office, and he
must be a man singularly deficient in a sense of the fitness of things
who can enter these marble halls and boldly go up to the bronze-edged
counter and ask for a halfpenny stamp.

Under the public office is the posting room, into which falls the
correspondence posted in the big letter-boxes by the public. It is
interesting to stand in this room and watch the postal packets pouring
down the shoot from the letter-boxes. There begins the first stage of
the travels of a letter. Everything that machinery and science can do to
economise labour and to facilitate delivery and despatch is brought into
play. Sorting is simply continual subdivision, and it is interesting to
watch the journeyings of the letters from the moment of posting in the
big letter-box. There is very little carriage from one place to another
by hand. Cable conveyors and band conveyors, worked much on the same
principle as the moving platforms we have all seen at exhibitions and
great emporiums, carry the letters from point to point until each letter
finds its appointed bag, and is either taken out of the building by the
City postman or deposited in a mail cart which takes it to the railway
station or district office.

A band conveyor takes the letters from the posting room which are
addressed to places in London or abroad, to the ground floor of the
building in baskets, and the empty baskets are sent down by a return
band. The correspondence for the provinces, which is dealt with at a
large sorting office at Mount Pleasant, nearly a mile away, is put into
bags, and another band conveyor takes these bags to the departure
platform at the west end of the sorting office. There is a third band
conveyor suspended from the ceiling of the same floor, which is for the
conveyance of bags of mails from the east to the west of the sorting
office.

The London letters and those for abroad are conveyed to the ground
floor, which is occupied by the E.C. district sorting office. The
letters are brought to the eastern end of the immense room and with them
are bags of letters which have arrived from provincial offices and
abroad, amounting altogether to upwards of five millions weekly.

The posted letters are arranged in order for stamping on what are called
facing tables, on which running bands are placed, and at the end of
these tables are electric stamping machines which can obliterate the
stamps on the letters up to a rate of 700 or 800 per minute. Then the
letters pass into two main divisions. On the northern side
correspondence for all parts of London, except the E.C. district, is
dealt with, and direct despatches are made to every chief district and
sub-district delivery office in London for every delivery during the
day. On the southern side the postmen prepare the correspondence for the
twelve daily deliveries in the E.C. district. Upwards of 1400 postmen
are attached to this office. A noticeable feature of the work of sorting
is that the letters travel from east to west always, and at the west end
is the platform from which bags for other offices are despatched.

The first floor is entirely devoted to the treatment of correspondence
for the Colonies and abroad. About 900 officers of all grades are
employed upon the work and about 400,000 articles are despatched weekly.
The work is brought up by lifts from the eastern platform.

The principle here is also continual subdivision, and there are upwards
of 1000 different post offices for which direct bags are made up nightly
in the Foreign Section. A striking feature of this section to the
visitor is the varied colouring of the big mail bags intended for
over-sea mails. If the foreign sailor cannot read he can appreciate
colour, and he will know the destination of a mail bag by its colour.

A band conveyor from east to west conveys the bags from the Foreign
Section to the top of a special shoot at the west end of the building,
whence they are shot down to the departure platform on the ground floor.

All the letters everywhere are “stepping westward,” and everything goes
even on the busiest night with something like the regularity of clock
work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde_
                           THE BLIND SECTION.

      These men are dealing with badly and insufficiently
      addressed letters. They have directories in front of them,
      and every effort is made to put the letters into circulation
      again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

An interesting feature of the Sorting Office is the Blind Section. Here
at all hours of the day you will find a row of men sitting at a long
table over which is a bookshelf full of up-to-date directories, guides,
and other manuals of topographical information. These men are doing
their best to put in the way of delivery the imperfectly and
indistinctly written packets. If they fail the letter goes to the
Returned Letter Office to submit to more expert treatment. Experience
counts for much with these men. The badly spelt addresses are perhaps
the easiest of these puzzles. “Saintlings, Hilewite,” is at once decided
to be “St. Helens, Isle of Wight” “Has bedallar—such” even a schoolboy
would recognise as Ashby-de-la-Zouch; but it requires the specialist in
puzzles addresses to arrange for the delivery of a letter addressed
simply as 25th March to Lady Day, the wife of the judge of that name.

Whenever we speak of the activities of London we have to deal with big
figures, and comparative tables of growth and development are a little
wearisome to the modern reader, simply because they have lost all the
charm of unexpectedness. We know there must be a huge staff employed at
the Head Office in London; the statement that 20,000 is the actual
number leaves us unaffected: perhaps even we guessed it was 40,000. We
are fully prepared to hear that billions of letters are delivered in the
City of London weekly; we are even a little disappointed when we know
that up to the present the average is about 5½ millions. If we have been
interested in the new building itself and what it is expected to bear in
the way of work, we may at least like to know that the total weight of
the weekly correspondence passing through its walls is about 366 tons.

I expect that if we were asked in a newspaper competition to state how
many post offices and posting receptacles there were in London, we
should make a wild guess and say perhaps 15,000 or even 20,000. The
actual number is 4650. The fact is the average human mind is incapable
of realising facts when stated in thousands. Only very experienced men
can tell the approximate numbers at a Hyde Park meeting or a royal
procession. Post office numbers are bewildering; we simply cannot
realise that they are human life expressed in terms of figures. In order
to help our limited human faculties, Mr. J. Holt Schooling has estimated
that if one man were given the task of sorting all the postal packets
delivered in the United Kingdom in one year—and supposing him to work at
the rate of sixty a minute—he would have had to begin nearly one hundred
and sixty years ago, in the reign of George II., before the conquest of
India began under Lord Clive, in order to complete his task by the year
1910. Mr. Schooling gives him no time for sleep or meals; he goes on
without stopping. This is indeed harder to realise than the actual
number of the postal packets, which is something over 5,000,000,000.

It is perhaps interesting to know that 32 per 100 of all letters
delivered in England and Wales are proper to the London district, nearly
one-third. The outgoing letters from the London district also show
somewhat similar results. A City firm has posted as many as 132,000
letters at one time.

It is also an interesting fact that we send out of this country a great
many more letters than we receive from all the five continents. Even in
the case of America, the excess is something like 80,000, but one
portion of America, viz., the United States, sends us more letters than
we send to that country.

The following estimate will not perhaps test severely the brains which
rebel at large sums. According to Mr. Schooling, whom we have quoted
before, the number of letters, post cards, halfpenny packets, and
newspapers delivered during a year in this country works out for each
individual as 65 letters, 19 post cards, 21 halfpenny packets, and 4
newspapers. A moment's consideration of these figures will convince us
of the vast number of folk still living with whom the receipt of a
letter must be an event in the year.

It is only a little over eighty years since the comparatively small
office at Lombard Street housed the whole staff of the London chief
office. The change has been tremendous, but no more in proportion to the
population than other activities of life. Post Office servants often
point with pride to what their Department has achieved, but the truth
must be told, and it is that the credit cannot be claimed by the
officials. We might almost say that, as far as the Department is
concerned, the increase is mostly unearned increment. The increase in
population, and especially the advance in the means of communication,
are the two chief causes; it is the people who have made the Post
Office, not the officials. A retiring postmaster, or even a retiring
Postmaster-General, will sometimes tell us in round figures what has
been accomplished under his rule. “Alone I did it” is sometimes the
burden of these valedictory speeches. But the true explanation lies
often in the birth-rate or in the opening of a new railway, and the Post
Office reaps what others have sown. And there have been times when the
Post Office administrator, proud of what he has done and what his
Department is doing, has tried to say “Thus far shalt thou go and no
further” to the reformers. “Why not remain satisfied with the perfection
I have been the humble means of securing?” The official mind usually
requires some driving force from outside before it can see the necessity
for another advance.

Still, do not let us forget the huge army which serves the nation in
postal matters. The counter-clerk who sells the stamp and the postman
who delivers the letter are the two officials who are known to the
public, and the different officers who conduct the operations which come
between the buying of the stamp and the delivery of the letter are
almost unknown outside the walls of their own offices. And it is a
matter for congratulation that in King Edward's Building the health and
bodily needs of the staff have been considered in a way which twenty or
thirty years ago would have been regarded as quixotic and as
grandmotherly administration.

Ducts have been provided in the main building for mechanically
ventilating the three lower floors, and uptakes are led from these into
fan-houses situated on the roof. The fans which have been installed are
directly coupled to motors of variable speed, and are designed to move
large quantities of air. Fresh air is admitted through windows and
ventilating radiators, and the vitiated air is discharged on the roof.
The ventilation of the Bag Room has been separately treated; here a
considerable quantity of dust is liberated by the handling of mail bags,
and dust, we are beginning to learn, is the great enemy to health.
Arrangements have been made for concentrating this at one point near a
collecting hopper, through which the dust-laden air passes and is
discharged on the roof.

The third floor is entirely devoted to kitchen and refreshment-room
accommodation and retiring-rooms for the various classes of the staff.
Each officer has a long locker for his belongings. As the work goes on
during the whole of the twenty-four hours, the refreshment branch is
practically always open. A very large business is done here. Three
thousand dinners can be prepared every day.

The roof is flat, and on it two miniature rifle ranges, one of 25 yards
and one of 50 yards, have been constructed. Here are to be seen the
large ventilating fans for securing a constant supply of fresh air to
the rooms below.

The new-comer into the service speedily takes all these conveniences and
comforts for granted, and perhaps is aggrieved because arm-chairs and
lounges are not yet provided; but the middle-aged official, who
remembers times when nothing apart from his work was ever considered by
his chiefs, rubs his eyes sometimes and wonders whether it is all a
dream.

King Edward's Building is in keeping with all the traditions of the City
of London. Charlotte Brontë in _Villette_ says: “I have seen the West
End, the parks, the fine squares: but I love the City far better. The
City seems so much more in earnest: its business, its rush, its roar are
such serious things, sights, sounds. The City is getting its living—the
West End but enjoying its pleasure. At the West End you may be amused,
but in the City you are deeply excited.” That is the mood which will
possess the visitor as he leaves the new building.

Here is a list of the huge buildings which now make up the London
General Post Office:—

  1. G.P.O. North. For the Postmaster-General and the offices of the
      Secretary, Accountant-General, and Solicitor.

  2. G.P.O. West. For the Central Telegraph Office and Engineering
      Staff.

  3. G.P.O. South (Queen Victoria Street). For the Telephone Department.

  4. King Edward's Building. For the Controller of the London Postal
      Service and his staff and for the E.C. and Foreign Sections of the
      Sorting Office.

  5. Mount Pleasant. For the Inland Letter and Parcel Sections of the
      Sorting Office, Returned Letter Office, Telegraph Factories, &c.

  6. West Kensington. For the Post Office Savings Bank.

  7. Studd Street, N. For the Stores Department.

  8. Holloway, N. For Money Order and Postal Order Departments.

The staff working in these eight buildings is about 20,000, of whom 4300
are in King Edward's Building.




                               CHAPTER V
                       THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE


Something of the old romance of the service lingers about the Travelling
Post Office. To those who work it there is always a possibility of
adventure, not to mention the risk to life and limb, while to those who
watch its operations there is that indefinable element which makes an
appeal to the imagination. Moreover, in more than one of its features it
links up our time with the old mail coach days. There are pictures in
existence of the mail coach passing through a village or hamlet, and the
mail bag is being handed out from the upper windows of the local post
office to the guard of the coach. The driver is reducing his speed while
the exchange is taking place, and the suggestion of the picture is that
no time is to be lost. The same idea is carried out to-day by means of
mechanical appliances. Indeed, so soon as the mail train came into
being, the minds of officials were at once exercised how to maintain the
old system of exchange under altered conditions. The early effects were
scarcely ingenious, and were obviously dangerous. The experiment was
tried of hoisting up the bags towards the railway guards on long poles,
but after one guard had had his eye poked out, and others had suffered
from severe falls while endeavouring to secure the bags, it was felt
that the business placed too severe a strain on human endeavour. Under
this clumsy arrangement it was necessary for the train to reduce its
speed, and it was not only, I am afraid, to preserve the guards from
injury, but also to prevent delay during the process of exchange, that
the efforts of inventors were directed. But before I proceed to describe
the ingenious apparatus which is in operation to-day, and which is on
practically the same lines as that invented more than seventy years ago,
I must deal with the Travelling Post Office itself.

As early as 1837, when railways were yet in their infancy, it was
suggested to the Post Office by Frederick Karstadt, a son of one of the
surveyors of the Department, that much time would be saved if some of
the necessary business of sorting and preparation for delivery of
letters were performed on the train. On the 6th January 1838, a carriage
was run as an experiment on the railway between Birmingham and
Liverpool. The carriage used for the purpose was simply a horse-box
temporarily fitted up as a sorting office. The experiment was decided to
be a success, not only by officials, but by the press and the public. In
the words of an enthusiastic writer at the time, “Here is a specimen of
the exhaustless ingenuity which bids fair to annihilate time and space,
an improvement which enables the Post Office to work practically double
tides—in other words, to duplicate time by travelling and working at the
same instant.” We smile at writing of this kind in these days, when the
familiarity of the operations has robbed us of all sense of wonder, but
the language is not very different from what we frequently hear to-day
when the achievements of the aeroplane or wireless telegraphy are
recorded. To our grandfathers the Travelling Post Office was a miracle
of the day, and it is not difficult, if we know the social life of that
time, to understand the way in which they must have speculated on its
possibilities.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

            _Photo_                       _Herbert Lazenby._
                      THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE.

      This is the interior of the most recently constructed Great
      Northern Railway travelling post office. Notice the exchange
      apparatus fittings behind the sorters.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the idea of being able to carry on the ordinary business of life
while travelling from one place to another which appealed to the
imaginations of men whose experiences of travel had been limited to the
cramped conditions of the mail coach. But I doubt whether they could
have conceived of a time when we should breakfast, lunch, dine, and have
comfortable beds on trains running at fifty miles an hour. And one of
the latest developments of all, the providing of lady typists on trains
for the benefit of business men travelling to and from London, would
certainly have justified the enthusiastic prose of an earlier day. We
take these things in a more complacent fashion; we talk of the increased
economy and convenience as meeting a public demand, and we grumble at
the railway which withholds luxuries from us.

There is no doubt, however, that the success of the Travelling Post
Office was the first revelation to the railway companies, and to the
public, of what could be done on a train while in motion, but much was
needed in the direction of improving the permanent way and the springs
and general make-up of the rolling stock before any further advances
could take place. Perhaps on this ground alone we can spare a little
sympathy for the Post Office servants, who during the long years when
railway travelling was neither smooth nor comfortable, had to keep their
heads and their feet while the train raced across country.

The first permanent sorting carriage was built by the Grand Junction
Railway Company, and this carriage was fitted with an apparatus for
exchanging mail bags _en route_. The appliance consisted of an iron
frame covered with netting, and was fixed to the near side of the
carriage. It was made to open out for the purpose of receiving a bag
suspended from the arm of a standard erected beside the railway line.
Simultaneously with the delivery of a bag into the carriage net, a bag
was dropped on to the bare ground by another mechanical contrivance,
guard boards being fixed by the side of the permanent way to prevent the
bag from getting under the wheels of the carriage. This apparatus was
first tried in 1838 on the London and Birmingham Railway at Boxmoor. On
the 17th September 1838, the London and Birmingham Railway was opened
throughout its entire length, and the Travelling Post Office was
permanently established on that line. Two mails were despatched from
Euston daily, the first a day mail at 11 A.M. and the night mail at 8.30
P.M.

The immediate effect of the introduction of the Travelling Post Office
was to render unnecessary the making up of some 800 or 900 bags. Each
town now made up one bag for the train, instead of the fourteen or
fifteen which had to be made up for the mail coach, and the Travelling
Post Office re-sorted the letters and made up bags for the various towns
which it served. In the year 1843 the number of bags made up in the
London and Preston Travelling Post Office down mail was 51 and in the up
mail 44. The number of bags at present made up in the same Travelling
Post Office, which now runs from London to Aberdeen, is nearly 400 on
the down journey and about 300 on the up journey. In 1910 there were in
Great Britain no less than 73 separate Travelling Post Offices, composed
of 150 specially constructed carriages.

In 1848 the apparatus for exchanging letters was considerably altered
and simplified. For the first time nets were fixed by the side of the
permanent way in which were caught the bags delivered from the
Travelling Post Office, and a new variety of winged carriage net was
provided with detaching lines, which were used to grip and detach the
pouch from the arm in which it was held. Many alterations have since
been made in the working of this apparatus, but the principle of the
thing remains the same.

In 1859 as a further means of accelerating the mails “the limited mail”
train was started. Many people have doubtless wondered at this
definition of an express train: they have probably connected it in some
way with the idea of speed, but in reality it was nothing more than the
application of the old regulation of the mail coach days to railway
traffic. That is to say, the mails were to be the first consideration,
and the passenger traffic was to be limited on these trains to the point
where the speed or the availability of the train for mail purposes would
not be interfered with. The first limited mail to run was the night
train to Scotland.

An advance on the idea of the limited mail was made in 1885, when a
special mail train was established on the London and North-Western and
Caledonian Railways. This is a train devoted entirely to the mail
service, and it runs in both directions between London and Aberdeen.
Similar special trains run on the Great Western Railway between London
and Penzance. One of the latest developments of the system is the
provision of a late-fee box on the side of the carriage. The letter-box
on the side of the carriage next to the platform is kept open while the
train is standing in a station. The up-to-date sorting carriages are an
immense improvement on those of the old pattern in the matter of easy
movement. They are constructed with a view to reduce vibration to a
minimum. All projections and angles are well padded, and this precaution
is at all times necessary, as turning a curve at high speed frequently
takes the sorters off their feet and sends them flying into corners or
against the sides of the carriage.

In the new sorting carriages plate-glass bottoms are provided for the
letter-sorting frames to enable the sorters to see at a glance that they
have removed all the correspondence from each box at the time of
despatch. This prevents letters being carried beyond their destination
or left in the carriage at the journey's end.

The duty of each officer is laid down in detail in the “duty book,” as
is also “the plan” or “alphabet” he is to use in sorting the
correspondence, and the order in which the bags are to be hung. Every
man knows exactly what he has to do, and that he must depend upon his
own exertions for the completion of his duty over every stage of the
journey. Space is necessarily limited. Along one side of the letter-vans
are pigeon-holes for sorting purposes, while the opposite side is fitted
with pegs for holding the bags and with the machinery used for the
exchange apparatus.

Upwards of 3,000,000 miles are run annually by Travelling Post Offices
in this country. The largest number are run on the London and
North-Western and Caledonian Railways, amounting in all to 1,800,000
miles. The London night mail is the heaviest mail in the course of the
twenty-four hours. Day mails and mid-day mails are merely subsidiaries
to the larger service. It has been said that “the principal mail train
in the kingdom, perhaps in the whole world, is the Down Postal Express
which leaves Euston every night at 8.30.” It consists entirely of postal
vehicles, and carries thirty Post Office officials, the only
representatives of the railway company being the driver, fireman, and
guard. At Tamworth connection is made with the Midland Travelling Post
Office going north and south and with the Lincoln sorting carriage. At
Carlisle the Caledonian Railway takes on the running. The London
officers are relieved here, and Glasgow and Edinburgh sorters take over
the carriages journeying to these cities. At Perth the train is on the
Highland Railway system, and has a direct run to Aberdeen. At most
important points on the road it connects with cross-country routes.

The Great Western Railway has a similar train which leaves Paddington at
9.5 P.M. and is due at Penzance at 6.45 A.M. The mail is divided for
sorting purposes into five divisions, the fifth being known as the
Cornwall Section. At Reading a large number of bags are exchanged for
the South and Midlands. The London and South-Western Travelling Post
Office is connected here with the Paddington mail.

Travelling Post Offices are attached to the night trains on other lines
from London, and these trains also carry passengers. At 9.13 P.M. there
is a carriage from London Bridge for Brighton and south coast towns. The
Great Eastern trains leaving Liverpool Street for Ipswich and Norwich at
8.50 P.M. and 10.7 P.M. have sorting carriages attached to them. The
continental night mail leaves Cannon Street at 9.5 P.M., and is followed
at 10 P.M. by the South-Eastern Travelling Post Office. There is also a
night mail between Holborn Viaduct and Folkestone in connection with the
Flushing route to the Continent.

The working of the mail bag exchange apparatus is perhaps to the public
the most interesting feature in the Travelling Post Office. I make no
apology, therefore, in giving a detailed description of the contrivance.
The net is made of hemp, the end of which is strengthened by stout
manilla rope in order to enable it better to withstand the shock
subsequent upon the receipt of the pouches. The iron frame of the net is
hinged in two pieces, called the bed and the wing. When extended for use
the net is about two feet seven inches from the panel of the carriage,
and the apex of the wing some nine feet eight inches above rail level.
When not in use the net pulls up nearly flat against the side of the
carriage, and it is lowered into position and raised again by the action
of a lever inside the carriage. The delivery arms are fitted in the
doorways of the carriage, and are hinged to strong iron tubes containing
spiral springs which, when the arms are not required for use, retain
them in an upright position by the door pillars. When a despatch has to
be made the arm is drawn into the carriage, a sort of convex shield,
technically called “a sweep,” determining the angle to which it must be
brought before it can be drawn from its perpendicular position. The mail
bags for delivery are enclosed in a leather pouch for protection against
concussion, and to keep them in a fairly square position when suspended.
Affixed to the pouch is a thick strap about ten inches long, known as a
“drop strap,” and at one end of this there is an eyelet which, when the
arm is drawn into the carriage, is passed on to a pin forming a portion
of the head or box of the arm, which is protected by a spring cover. The
carriage net has to be lowered and the pouches put out for delivery some
distance before the roadside apparatus is reached, and in order to
perform these operations properly an officer has to be well acquainted
with the different landmarks along the permanent way. All sorts of
immovable marks serve for this purpose—houses, churches, bridges, gates,
and clumps of trees. There is a tale told of a white horse which was
seen so regularly every day in a field beside the railway that the
animal became a mark for the official working the apparatus. One day the
horse died, and there were then several bag failures at the particular
station.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

          _Photos by_                       _Herbert Lazenby._
                      THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE.

      (1) The official placing the suspended pouch in position to
      be taken up by the passing train.

      (2) The pouch suspended and the net open to receive the
      pouch from the approaching train.

      (3) The pouch has been received into the travelling post
      office by means of the net attached to it, while the one
      received from the train is seen in the wayside net.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The work of the officer in charge has to be done in less than twenty
seconds, when the train is going fifty or sixty miles an hour; in this
time he has to lower two pouches, extend the net, and raise it again
after the receipt of the pouch.

The roadside receiving apparatus is made up of a net of stout manilla
rope attached to a framing which consists of a fixed wooden upright and
a hinged iron frame. Both stand up some four feet above the rail level,
and when in position are kept apart by a cross-bar. To this bar the
angle end of a double piece of rope is fastened by means of straps, and
the other ends of the rope are attached, one to the top of the fixed
wooden framing and one to the top of the iron frame, forming a V. This
is struck by the drop strap of the pouch suspended from the delivery arm
of the carriage, and the pouch itself is released, not the net. The
weight of a single pouch, including the bags which it protects, must not
exceed 50 lbs. when despatched from a roadside standard, or 60 lbs. when
despatched from a carriage arm. The man stationed at the roadside
apparatus has to be as alert and careful as the man on the train, and
considering the delicate nature of the work it is wonderful how few
misses or accidents occur. Parcels are, of course, never exchanged in
this way.

The blow sustained by the pouch containing the mail bags at the moment
of delivery when the train is travelling at high speed is exceedingly
severe, and sometimes causes danger to postal packets of a fragile
nature. This explains the following complaint from a member of the
public: “I am sorry to return the bracelet to be repaired. It came this
morning with the box smashed, the bracelet bent, and one of the
cairngorms forced out. Among the modern improvements of the Post Office
appears to be the introduction of sledgehammers to stamp with.” But this
sort of thing seldom happens. Occasionally, however, the pouches miss
the nets and are sent bounding over hedges. Bags have been found at the
end of a journey hanging on to a buffer or on the carriage roof. On one
occasion, at least, the apparatus has been the means of perhaps saving
life. A lamplighter was carried away on the roof of a compartment, and
after he had travelled twenty miles in this uncomfortable fashion it
occurred to him to knock on the roof-light of the Travelling Post
Office. The net was at once lowered, and the man obtained access to the
interior of the carriage.

One of the most curious accidents recorded was that which happened to an
engine driver who climbed out on to his foot-plate on a dark night to
oil his engine. He had forgotten he was near an apparatus station, and
was struck violently against the net. He was in a second hurled into it,
and the mail bag from his own train came banging in on top of him. He
was badly hurt, while the man at the apparatus station must have
received a severe mental shock at the delivery of a _male_ which he had
not expected that night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE.]

      The pouch which has been discharged from the wayside
      standard into the net attached to the train.

                  ------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE TRAVELLING POST OFFICE.]

      The apparatus on the exterior of a mail carriage. Two
      pouches are extended for despatch and the net lowered into
      position for the receipt of incoming pouches.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The history of the Travelling Post Office is not without its stories of
more serious disasters. One of the most awful railway accidents which
have happened in this country was the collision of the Irish mail train
with some runaway waggons at Abergele on the 20th August 1868. There
were barrels of petroleum on the waggons, and these became ignited,
setting fire to the train. Among the burning carriages was the
Travelling Post Office, and the two officers working in it were
seriously injured. The conduct of Woodroffe, one of the two, whose
injuries were not so severe as those of his colleague, was in accordance
with the best traditions of the postal service. Woodroffe, though badly
hurt, carried his brother officer, who was insensible from the
collision, to the side of the railway line, and after laying him there
proceeded himself to save the mails so far as it was possible.

Another railway tragedy which will long be remembered in the postal
service was that which took place outside Shrewsbury Station on the 15th
October 1907. This was the severest accident that has occurred in the
whole history of the Travelling Post Office. No less than three Post
Office men were killed while on duty, and others were injured.

It will be perhaps interesting at this stage to trace the travels of a
letter to the furthest point in the British Isles. On this route we can
bring out clearly the fact that in many parts of Great Britain and
Ireland the Post Office, in spite of mail trains and ingenious
mechanical contrivances, is still dependent on quite primitive means for
conducting its business. Moreover, directly we get away from the main
lines of traffic, considerations of weather still affect postal
operations almost as much as they used to do in the old coaching days.
Let us address a letter to the Muckle Flugga Lighthouse, which is
situated to the north of the island of Unst in Shetland. Let us post the
letter at King Edward's Building on a Sunday night at 6 P.M., and given
favourable conditions of weather it will be delivered at the Muckle
Flugga Lighthouse on Thursday morning. The letter is sorted into the
Scottish division, is subsorted into a pigeon hole, and afterwards into
a bundle labelled “Aberdeen forward.” The bundle is dropped into a bag
inscribed with the words “London to Aberdeen,” and one of the familiar
red vans conveys the bag to the London terminus. On Sunday nights this
would be Euston. The bag is handed over to the sorters in charge of the
Travelling Post Office, on which there is a mail carriage which runs
direct to Aberdeen. Aberdeen is reached at 7.35 on Monday morning. So
far the process of the letter has been simple and rapid.

The bag containing the letters is conveyed to the Aberdeen Post Office,
where it is opened, and the letters are again subsorted. The letter for
Muckle Flugga is placed in a pigeon hole labelled “Lerwick,” and a
sorter then checks all the postal packets very carefully, because, in
consequence of the remoteness of the islands, serious delay would happen
if any were mis-sent. Then they are tied in separate bundles and are
placed in a strong waterproof sack labelled “Lerwick.” The Monday
steamer goes to Scalloway on the west side of Shetland, other steamers
during the week go to Lerwick _via_ Orkney, the steamer on Thursdays
from Aberdeen sailing to Lerwick direct. But our letter is going to
Scalloway, and it can arrive there about 2 P.M. on the Tuesday. The
mails are then placed on a mail cart for conveyance to Lerwick on the
east side of the island, six miles distant. At Lerwick the letter is
again subsorted, and placed in another bag labelled “Lerwick to
Haroldswick.” This place is on the island of Unst. The bag is conveyed
by mail car leaving Lerwick at 9.15 P.M. on Tuesday, and this stage
means a long drive of many miles north, with a break of a few hours at
Voe. Mossbank, which is on Yell Sound, the dangerous channel which
separates the island of Yell from the Shetland mainland, is reached at
7.30 A.M. on Wednesday. The bag for Haroldswick is here placed in a
ferry-boat which starts at 8 A.M. and is due to reach the other side in
an hour, the distance being three miles. The tide in Yell Sound has a
speed of nine miles an hour, and in a gale of wind is the worst crossing
in the British Isles. Ulsta is the landing-place on the other side, and
a mail car takes the letter for the lighthouse five and a half miles to
Burravoe, then another car takes it to Cullivoe, twenty miles further
on, and the letter is opposite the island of Unst at 3 P.M. on
Wednesday. Here is another ferry between the islands of Yell and Unst,
across a channel one mile in width, and the ferryman should arrive at
Tranavoe in Unst about 3.30 P.M. There a mail car takes the letter, and
carries it eleven and a half miles across the island, and it arrives at
Haroldswick the same evening at 6.30. Here the letter rests until the
following morning, when a foot-postman starts for the shore station of
the Muckle Flugga Lighthouse. But it may be here for weeks before the
people on the shore can communicate with those on the lighthouse. The
British Isles in these northern latitudes end in magnificent and
dangerous rocks, and it is upon one of these, rising to a height of 200
feet, that the Muckle Flugga lighthouse is erected.

The letter has travelled practically the length of the British Isles
from south to north, and in less than the same time another letter might
have travelled from London to Athens, Cadiz, Gibraltar, Madeira or
Tangiers. The _Mauretania_ will probably reach New York on most of her
voyages sooner than a passenger will travel the length of the British
Isles. And that is simply because we use the old means of conveyance
over a considerable portion of the distance. The Post Office owes much
to the railway companies for the advances made in the quality of the
rolling stock and in the condition of the permanent way. It was always
possible to sort letters after a fashion while the train was in motion.
But it is now possible to write and to type letters on the train, and we
have come to this, that all the stages of a letter can be completed
during a single journey. Yet directly we get away from the railway
system in any part of the country we are back again in the eighteenth
century, dependent on postboys, mail carts, the weather, and the state
of the roads. The country is still full of samples of the travelling
arrangements of all the centuries. There is no Travelling Post Office in
the Hebrides or the Shetlands.




                               CHAPTER VI
                            THE PARCEL POST


Out of very small beginnings many great commercial enterprises have
arisen, and the Parcel Post is not the only big business which sprang
into being in a cellar. In the basement of the old General Post Office
at St. Martin's le Grand in the year 1883 the Parcel Post began its
work, and though it speedily outgrew this limited accommodation, not
even the most optimistic of its supporters could have dreamed that in
less than thirty years the General Post Office would be dealing annually
with 118 million parcels, and that instead of a basement, many great
buildings would be required in which to transact the business.

In 1880 a Postal Conference was held at Paris with the view of creating
an International Parcel Post, and at that Conference the British Post
Office was represented, although, having then no Inland Parcel Post, it
was unable to enter into any international agreement. But the example of
foreign nations undoubtedly stimulated the energies of English
officials, and in the two following years negotiations were carried on
with the railway companies which finally resulted in an arrangement, to
which legal effect was given by an Act of Parliament passed on the 18th
August 1882, that the companies should receive eleven-twentieths of the
postage collected upon all parcels carried by railway. It was from the
outset intended to link the Inland to the International Parcel Post as
soon as might be possible.

In the early days no parcel weighing over 7 lbs. could be sent by Parcel
Post, and the charge for a parcel of this weight was 1s. To-day a 7 lb.
parcel can be sent for 7d., and parcels weighing up to 11 lbs. are
accepted. The charge for 11 lbs. is now 11d. The reduction in charges
was a part of the Diamond Jubilee Reforms of 1897. The minimum charge of
3d. for a parcel not weighing over 1 lb. has remained unchanged since
1883.

The dimensions of a parcel must not exceed 3 feet 6 inches in length nor
a total of 6 feet in length and girth combined. Ladies' hats are sent by
the Parcel Post in large numbers, and grave fears were at one time
entertained, when the hats were growing larger week by week, that the
General Post Office would have to close its doors to these enormities.
They were approaching perilously near the limit of 6 feet length and
girth combined. It is difficult at all times to find out what determines
a change of fashion; it is possible in this instance that the Parcel
Post regulations may have influenced those mysterious individuals who
decide what ladies are to wear; anyhow, the situation was saved by the
introduction of “the pudding basin” hat, and though the large hat did
not disappear, high tide in size had been reached.

In its early beginnings the Parcel Post was confined to the United
Kingdom, but in 1885 it was extended to some of the Colonies and British
dependencies, to India, Gibraltar and Egypt, to Malta, the Straits
Settlements, Hong Kong, some of the West Indies, and South Africa. In
the following year business was begun with Germany. Belgium, and
Constantinople, and other continental countries were soon added to those
we exchanged parcels with. Canada joined the system also in 1886, These
foreign extensions were not always considered successes by the public.
An indignant business man, complaining of the loss of parcels sent by
him to Persia, wrote: “The Parcel Post Service was evidently established
in Persia with the object of providing the officials of that country
with food and clothing. The only articles which appear to reach their
destination are the publications of the Religious Tract Society.”

We are accustomed to see in the windows of suburban houses cards bearing
the letters C.P. or L.P.D., indicating that the carts of certain
carrying agencies are required to call, but we should probably
experience something in the nature of a shock if we saw in the windows a
card lettered P.P. or G.R. to indicate that the Parcel Postman was to
call. There is an accepted tradition with the public as well as with
officials that the Post Office does not advertise. Mr. Fawcett was
Postmaster-General when the Parcel Post was organised, and he broke
through that tradition not only as regards the Parcel Post but also in
dealing with the Post Office Savings Bank; and in the early days of the
Parcel Post, cards were distributed to householders with the request
that they should be placed in the windows when the Parcel Post cart was
required to call. The cards were  with the Post Office red, and
the lettering was white.

The chief Parcel Office is at Mount Pleasant, Clerkenwell. It is a
district rich in historical associations. Here was the famous Bagnigge
Wells, where Londoners used to stroll on summer evenings to drink a dish
of tea and to enjoy the humours and fashions of the town. Here also
stood the Coldbath Fields Prison, and gradually, as buildings surrounded
the jail, the district lost prestige as a health resort. The prison
authorities doubtless realised this, and decided to seek purer air for
their 2000 visitors, and they removed their headquarters further into
the country. The prison was thus thrown on the market, and after a
period of negotiations the General Post Office took possession with the
intention of erecting a pile of Government buildings on the site. The
Parcel Post had rapidly outgrown its cramped quarters at St. Martin's le
Grand, and in 1887 the business was transferred to the prison buildings.
For some years the chief Parcel Sorting Office in Great Britain was
located in the old prison treadwheel house behind massive and gloomy
walls. The khaki-clad, barefaced gentry had departed to their country
residence, and the huge treadwheels had been removed to make way for the
Parcel Post.

But the prison was very quickly demolished and gave way to a handsome
Sorting Office, the floor space of which when completed was to cover two
acres. The Parcel Post took possession of the new building in October
1892. It is always difficult to transact any business in a building
constructed for quite another purpose, and the conditions of service in
the prison buildings had not been exactly comfortable. Spacious yards
surround the Post Office buildings, and in these yards platforms have
been built giving direct access to the Sorting Office. Post Office vans
arrive in one yard loaded with receptacles containing parcels collected
from post offices in the City and other parts of London, or sent up from
the provinces and brought here from the railway termini. The loads are
discharged on to the platform and conveyed by porters into the Sorting
Office. In another yard on the opposite side of the building other vans
arrive empty, and back up to the platform to receive their loads of
parcels for conveyance to other parts of London or to railway stations
for despatch to provincial towns.

In the early days the parcels were chiefly packed in wicker hampers with
heavy fastenings, but the weight and cost of these receptacles rendered
it necessary to find something lighter. Many experiments were made, and
at last a receptacle was adopted with a wicker body and a canvas top,
which required no metal fastenings, as the canvas top was tied with
string and sealed with wax. The latest improvement on this is the
substitution of a leaden seal for the old wax sealing. Even this much
lighter receptacle is considered too heavy and costly for the conveyance
of ordinary parcels, and canvas sacks of extra durability are now being
generally used for the conveyance of parcels across London and to and
from provincial towns. Parcels of a fragile nature when sent by railway
are still packed in wicker receptacles for greater security.

The public are advised to affix a label marked “Fragile” to any parcel
which requires more than ordinary care in handling, and from time to
time wonderful examples of fragile parcels have been met with. A pair of
boots wrapped in brown paper has been so described, so have a plum
pudding in a cloth, a basket of fish, a box of butter, a volume of the
_Encyclopedia Britannica_, a York ham, an iron bolt wrapped in
corrugated paper, and a roll of blankets.

Wicker receptacles are not suitable for the service with the Colonies:
the parcels would not be sufficiently protected during the long voyage
and railway journey. For this traffic parcels are packed in tightly
fitting boxes unless the contents can safely be sent in sacks made of
double canvas.

As the practice increased of packing parcels in canvas sacks rather than
in wicker baskets, difficulties were experienced in finding supports for
the sacks during the process of packing. Every schoolboy knows that a
basket stands on its own bottom, but an empty sack falls flat. Officials
with a mechanical turn of mind vied with one another in suggesting how
to evade or to get round this natural law—in other words, how to support
the sacks—and eventually the Dockree support was chosen. This consists
of four iron arms extended at right angles from a pedestal, each arm
being constructed to support a sack at full length and with the mouth
open. An improved pattern of this holder, capable of supporting eight
open-mouthed sacks at one time, has recently been introduced. A sorter
is thus able to sort into eight mouths at once without any of the
stooping which was unavoidable when the sacks lay limp on the floor.

Let me now explain the system of sorting. The majority of people
probably never give a thought as to the happenings of a parcel which
they have posted: they leave it in faith on the counter and the
wonderful Post Office sends it direct to its destination. That is
probably their idea. Supposing you have left your parcel on the public
counter of King Edward's Building, what happens next? The parcel is
taken to the despatching room to wait the arrival of the van which will
convey it in a sack to the Parcel Office at Mount Pleasant. It will
there be turned out on a long sorting-table which has a sunken surface,
after the fashion of a scullery sink, the well of which is lined with
zinc. Your parcel is in the company of others, intended for all parts of
the world, and the first step is to get the parcels to the various parts
of the office from which they will be despatched to other destinations.
Along the whole length of one side of the table is a wooden framework or
sack holding the empty baskets. These ten baskets are labelled Scotch,
Irish, Paddington, Foreign and Colonial, Delivery, Liverpool Street,
Euston, King's Cross, Waterloo and London Bridge, Town, and the sorters
stand between these baskets and the table laden with parcels. They pick
up the parcels from the table and place them in the respective baskets.
Full baskets are carried by a porter to another part of the office,
where the second stage of the sorting is to be gone through. Here the
parcels are turned out on to another table similar to the one already
described. Let us suppose that your parcel is in the basket labelled
“Euston.” There are twelve baskets on the sorting rack at the Euston
division table, and they are labelled to the large centres known as
“Roads” and also to the “Aylesbury Coach” and to “Blind” as follows:
Chester, Carlisle, Preston, Rugby, Stafford, Blind, Watford, Manchester,
Birmingham, Liverpool, Shrewsbury, Aylesbury Branch.

Each of these centres or “Roads” contains a group of towns, and the
Aylesbury Coach “Road” covers all places served by the coach. The basket
labelled “Blind” is to receive all parcels which have reached the Euston
division table in error, through having been mis-sorted at the first
stage, and also any parcels which bear insufficient or doubtful
addresses. The business of the sorter at this stage is to put the
parcels on to the proper “Road,” and unless he has thoroughly learnt not
only the groups of towns on each “Road” but also the numerous smaller
places subordinate to these towns, he will cause trouble at the third or
final stage of the sorting. When these baskets are filled with parcels
they are taken to their respective “Roads,” and then the final process
of making up the mails takes place. The sorter at “the Road” receives
the basket of parcels proper to his centre, and then he sorts the
parcels for the various towns included in his district. He may have as
many as a dozen mails to prepare for despatch within a few minutes of
each other, and this means that he has to sort his parcels into twelve
different receptacles. These are close round him, and the advantage to
the sorter of having his sacks supported at full length will now be
understood.

Any parcels which have been mis-sorted to the officer on “the Road” have
to be placed on a shelf, and are subsequently returned to the
sorting-table to be put into their proper channel. This means that they
may miss their proper mail, and the importance of obtaining reliable men
for the sorting of the second stage is great.

The sorter at “the Road,” having packed his sacks or hampers, has to
prepare a bill for each receptacle, and this bill, when filled up, is
put in a pocket provided in the receptacle. The receptacle is then tied,
sealed, and sent off. The bill gives particulars of the number of the
receptacle, the offices of despatch and destination, the time of
despatch, and also an account of any registered or valuable parcels
which there may be in the mail. Registered parcels are not placed on the
ordinary sorting-tables, but are treated individually from the moment
they enter the Sorting Office to the time when they are packed ready for
despatch. They are passed from hand to hand, and signed for at each
transfer.

“Blind” parcels are those which are incorrectly or incompletely
addressed. All such parcels have to be examined at comparative leisure,
and the public would be surprised to learn what a large amount of time
is spent by the Post Office in making good the many defects and
shortcomings in addresses on parcels and other postal packets. The
Parcel Post comes in for many kicks from the public, but in justice it
must be said that the officials spare no pains to trace the proper
addresses of parcels. They exercise, too, great ingenuity in the task,
and books of reference are in constant use. Bad spelling in addresses
was formerly a very common source of trouble to sorters, but it is less
noticeable now, and possibly this may be one of the results of universal
education. I will give some instances of addresses of this kind which
have been successfully dealt with by the Post Office staff:—

 Sir
   lordmear                        =  The Lord Mayor of London
     of London                          Mansion House
        manchouse
 Mr. Rosenheim
   21 Rusſelstreet                 =  21 Russell Street
     Komerseldok                        Commercial Dock
 Michael Kelly
   Little elfet                    =  St. Nicholas
     Sir Nicolas Dusty                  Industrial School
       School                             Little Ilford
 Tom Jenkins
   Haselbeach                      =  Haselbeach
     in no Jamtshere                    Northamptonshire
 Mr. Wallace                       =  Messrs. Wallis & Co.
   Drapers                              Drapers
     Iobin                                High Holborn
 Ferar & Son                       =  H. B. Fearon & Son
     Obanvidock                         Holborn Viaduct

Then there are instances of extraordinary abbreviations in addresses.
For instance:—

 Messrs. CSSA          =  Civil Service Supply Association
   Qvst                       Queen Victoria Street

People, too, sometimes address their parcels with word pictures instead
of written characters, and of course the funny man who sends a parcel is
also in evidence.

                        Messrs. Parsons & Co.
                            Cocks and Hens
                                    London, E.,

which is obviously intended for Poultry, E.C.

                  *       *       *       *       *

Of insufficiently addressed parcels there are a great number, and the
difficulties with these are not lessened by the number of towns bearing
the same name. For instance, there are as many as 24 places in the
United Kingdom alone bearing the name of Newton, 12 named Milton, 16
Middleton, 20 Newtown, 12 Newport, 9 Mount Pleasant, and so on.

The covers of some packages are embellished with drawings, pen-and-ink
sketches, and even paintings, and the monotony of the sorter's duties is
relieved, though when the address of the parcel is hidden among the
foliage of a landscape or written in small characters on a boulder by
the sea-shore his difficulties are not lessened.

Some years ago, before the Parcel Post was established, and when the
difference between the book rate of postage and the letter rate was much
greater than it is at present, a poor woman sent a pair of trousers
through the post to her son, and paid only at the book rate. When the
parcel was delivered, a heavy charge was demanded and paid. The woman
then appealed to the Secretary, and a reply was sent explaining the
regulations and pointing out that the Book Post was not intended for the
transmission through the post of articles of clothing: this she would
see if she consulted the Post Office Guide. The woman replied that she
had consulted the Guide before despatching the parcel, and had found
that anything open at both ends could go by Book Post. She therefore
asked for the return of the surcharge.

One Christmas parcel consisted of a hare stuffed with packets of tea,
raisins, sweets, rashers of bacon, a roll of tobacco, a briar pipe, a
small toothed comb, all wrapped in a red handkerchief. And here is
another instance from a provincial Parcel Post Hospital. A flimsy
hat-box with the lid secured by tape. From it flows a thick and viscid
stream of egg yolk and albumen. When opened it reveals a silk top hat,
inside which is packed a damp goose, the spaces between the goose and
the lining of the hat being packed with eggs. This parcel had travelled
by coach, steamer, and rail _via_ Holyhead to Leeds!

Bad packing, indeed, on the part of senders of parcels causes an
infinity of trouble. Only three days after the establishment of the
Parcel Post in 1883 the Post Office found it necessary to issue notices
to the public throughout the country, warning them of the risk of damage
to the contents of parcels through thoughtless and careless packing. A
man sent bullion from abroad consisting of 400 sovereigns placed loosely
in a light wooden box. The shaking on the journey forced the sides of
the box open, and the sovereigns were scattered among the other parcels
in the same sack. Umbrellas and sunshades are often sent by post wrapped
up merely in brown paper. Now brown paper is just sufficient covering to
be worse than none at all. In the case of an umbrella it hides the
nature of the article, and without any covering at all it would stand a
better chance of travelling safely. It is surprising, too, that china
and glass ware are so frequently sent through the post with the barest
protection. Perhaps a piece of cardboard or a small piece of corrugated
paper without shavings is all that is wrapped round a breakable article.

It has often been noticed that if a bottle of hair-wash or cod liver oil
is broken in transit there is generally no difficulty in recovering a
substantial portion of the contents to be poured into another bottle,
but when a bottle of champagne or of whisky is broken none of the
contents ever remain to be deposited in another vessel.

Ireland is a great country for dairy produce, and she sends many parcels
of butter to England, but such parcels require careful packing. A parcel
wrapped only in grease-proof paper, with an outer wrapper of linen,
looks beautifully firm at the beginning of its journey, but in warm
weather deterioration sets in quickly, and only the wrappers are left by
the end of the journey. The tale is told by the other parcels in the
receptacle. They have all been anointed with oil. One parcel may be a
silk dress, another a gentleman's white shirt, another an album or the
latest thing in millinery.

Who is responsible for lost parcels? In 99 cases out of 100 it may be
confidently answered that the sender is the culprit. The parcel is
probably sent with only a tie-on label, and this gets detached in
transit. Tie-on labels ought never to be attached unless the address is
also on some part of the parcel itself. Parcels of game and poultry are
often sent with merely a paper label tied round the necks of the birds.
Post Office servants do their best, but such labels will get torn off
sometimes, and the birds then find their way to the Returned Parcel
Office. Here they are only kept for a day or two, as they are perishable
matter. They are sold at a sacrifice to outside tradesmen. Articles not
of a perishable nature are kept for some months in case they may be
claimed. In the Returned Parcel Office there is a motley collection of
all kinds of articles awaiting claimants. An elaborate register is kept
of these articles, and a history is furnished of all that is known
respecting them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde._
                       THE PARCEL POST HOSPITAL.

      This is a section of the Parcel Post Hospital. The official
      is busy packing up again a parcel which has been carelessly
      posted. The baskets are behind him, and all manner of
      strange articles are sometimes found loose in them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rats are occasionally very troublesome visitors in the Sorting Office:
they are doubtless attracted by the many toothsome morsels contained in
the parcels. It would seem, therefore, that cats should form a portion
of the staff of every Parcel Office. The cat, however, is an animal
capable of rapid demoralisation. It has been found from experience that
a lazy cat will find it less irksome to feed off a pair of partridges or
a pair of soles not properly packed than to wait and watch in holes and
corners for rats. Besides, rats are everyday food. I am afraid that when
the only thing which can be delivered to the addressee is a label with
the intelligence on the back, “Found loose in Parcel Office,” the cat
knows something of the contents. What is the answer of the Department to
unreasonable people who, not satisfied with the explanation on the
label, demand their parcels? Something to this effect: “Exhaustive
inquiry has been made, but the parcel cannot be traced. There is no
legal obligation to pay compensation for any loss or damage to
unregistered parcels, but the Postmaster-General voluntarily, and as an
act of grace, has seen fit to pay compensation in this particular
instance up to cost price of the goods.” Such compensation in
unregistered parcels must never exceed £2.

The Department takes great pains to repair damaged parcels where repair
is at all practicable, and every Parcel Sorting Office has a hospital
for dealing with parcels in all stages of dilapidation. Frequently the
only damage consists in a torn paper cover or a box with a broken lid,
or a cracked bottle, the contents of which are beginning to leak out. In
such cases repair is easy, but when the damage consists in a broken
violin bow, smashed lantern slides, a piece of carving with some of the
figures knocked off, or a dress with grease stains, the matter has to be
referred to the sender or addressee, and negotiations follow.

All the railway companies convey parcels over their lines, and they
receive a percentage on every parcel carried. The Parcel Mail Coaches I
am dealing with in a subsequent chapter.

The disposal of parcels is not always a simple matter. Many towns and
villages are far removed from the main lines of railway, and a parcel
has sometimes to be sent to two or three intermediate towns before it
can reach its destination. The journey, in fact, has to be done in
stages. Owing to most of the main lines converging on London, that city
has better facilities than any other for disposing of parcels. It is
often quicker to send through London a parcel from a town in the
Midlands or in the West addressed to a town in the Eastern counties.

An important development in connection with the Parcel Post has been the
Express Delivery Service. On payment of a special fee a parcel can
either be sent out in advance of the ordinary delivery after travelling
by the ordinary mail, or it can be sent by express messenger all the way
from the place of posting to the addressee.

One of the rules of the Parcel Post is that living creatures are not to
be sent without the Postmaster-General's direct sanction, but in the
express service by messenger all the way, this is allowed. Dogs on chain
and cats in baskets and other live stock are sent out in charge of
express messengers. On one occasion a man who had lost his way in London
went into a post office, paid the express fee, and asked to be taken to
his destination by Express Post. This was at once arranged.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde._
                   THE CUSTOM HOUSE OFFICERS AT WORK.

      Dutiable articles sent through the Post Office are opened
      and examined by the Custom House officials. Cigars, wines,
      cigarettes, etc., are shown here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It may seem strange to have Customs officers working in a Parcel Sorting
Office, but these individuals may be seen at all hours of the day at
Mount Pleasant, at Liverpool, and other seaports. The officials are
present at the offices to examine parcels coming into the United Kingdom
from abroad. All parcels from the Colonies or foreign countries are
liable to Customs examination, and every parcel coming into the country
has therefore to be accompanied by papers declaring the contents of the
parcel. Many tales could be told of the discrepancies between declared
and actual contents: the smuggling habit seems to be ingrained in the
human race.

It is a melancholy fact that a large number of the public cannot be
trusted to send a parcel honestly, that a still larger number cannot be
relied on to address one correctly, and that a yet larger number cannot
pack a parcel. If the faults of the public in these respects could be
remedied to any great extent, the force at Mount Pleasant could be
reduced considerably, and there would be a substantial gain to the
revenue.




                              CHAPTER VII
                              MOTOR MAILS


In my first chapter I made a point of the fact that at the moment when
travelling by mail coach had reached its highest point of excellence the
coming of the railway gave the death-blow to the whole system. The
long-distance traffic of this country was in the course of a few years
diverted from the main roads, and for thirty years these thoroughfares,
save for the local traffic between neighbouring places, were silent and
unused. Nowhere was this revolution more noticeable than in the district
round London. The Great North Road was perhaps the busiest of all the
coach routes, and in 1832 no fewer than between fifty and sixty coaches,
twenty of them mail coaches, ran on this road alone. At Barnet, the
first stage out of London, the double trips resulted in a coach passing
through the town in one direction or the other every quarter of an hour.

The coaching inn with its courtyard and fine stabling fell from its high
estate, and a younger generation marvelled at the number of
public-houses on a road with little or no traffic. They wondered, too,
at the fine wide thoroughfares running through the country towns. Where
was the traffic? Why the extravagance of space?

I suppose that as late as the year 1870 the life of the road appeared
dead beyond recall, and nothing seemed more unlikely than that the
coaching inn would come into favour again. The whole tendency of the
time seemed to be to develop the traffic on the railway. Even walking
appeared to be in danger of becoming a lost art.

Then in the early seventies began a little stream of bicycles along the
forsaken highways: the stream grew and grew: tricycles came in, then
safety bicycles, and ladies took to the wheel. Wayside inns began to
find their use once more, and the road was alive again. Then arrived the
motor, and we have now the astonishing result that on many routes out of
London the quieter and least dangerous thoroughfare for foot passengers
to cross is the railway.

But I am anticipating. I want to tell the story of the return of the
Post Office to the road, and to draw an interesting parallel between the
traffic of a hundred years ago and that of to-day. The first of John
Palmer's mail coaches began to run in 1784, and the system lasted nearly
sixty years. The determining cause which induced the Post Office to take
to the road again was the introduction of the Parcel Post. The railway
company receives 55 per cent. of the stamp value of every parcel, and as
the collecting, sorting, and distributing expenses are heavy, the cost
of transmitting parcels in this manner is considerable. The Post Office
naturally dislikes to hand over to the railway companies postage which
it can economically retain in its own hands, and it was to avoid the
railway charges that road services, extending to places not exceeding
fifty miles or thereabouts from London, were instituted. On the 1st June
1887, the revival of the road began for the Post Office, and a parcel
mail coach service was started between London and Brighton. This was the
Jubilee year, and the running of the new service attracted a great deal
of public attention. In a short time there were coaches running from
London Bridge to Tunbridge Wells and Chatham, and from Mount Pleasant to
Watford, Colchester, Hertford, Ware with branches. There was a coach to
Bedford with a branch to Cambridge, another from Paddington to Oxford
_via_ Reading, and yet others to Windsor and Guildford with services to
Epsom and Leatherhead. These coaches, drawn by three or four horses,
were in charge of guards who carried arms; and for more than ten years
the resemblance between the old and the modern mail service was
striking. The difference, and of course a very notable one, was that the
modern coach carried no passengers. But it carried with it all the
prestige of “His Majesty's Service,” and it maintained all the old
traditions of speed and punctuality—so much so that the villagers on the
route set their clocks when the mail passed.

The coming of the motor brought about another revolution. Many of my
readers will remember the 14th November 1896, when a large number of
motor carriages and vans assembled at Northumberland Avenue, Charing
Cross, to celebrate by a run to Brighton the passing of the Act of
Parliament which regulated the use of these vehicles. The Act came into
operation on that day. Many of these motors never reached Brighton; they
broke down at various points on the route; but the trip was an
object-lesson to the British public of the possibilities of motor
traffic. It impressed the Post Office authorities, who were among the
first of the large business concerns in this country to adopt motor
traction. As early as 1897 experimental trials were made between the
General Post Office and the South-Western District Office, and between
the latter office and Kingston-on-Thames. During the same year a steam
motor was tried between London and Redhill, a distance of about 46 miles
there and back. Experiments were also made with electric motors in
different parts of the country at the same time.

There was a difficulty at the outset owing to the Board of Trade
regulations which prohibited vans weighing more than 1½ tons (unladen)
from travelling more than 8 miles an hour. Difficulty was experienced in
constructing cars of sufficient carrying capacity which should be within
the limit of weight. This restriction was afterwards removed, so that it
has been possible to build much larger motors, timed to travel at a
faster rate of speed.

In spite, however, of the numerous improvements in the mechanism of
motors, the new method of traction was far from perfect for several
years, and as late as 1902 the official report was, “So far no motor
vehicle which has been found can be relied on to carry heavy mails with
the same regularity as vans drawn by horses.” Even two years later, in
1904, the opinion held was “that motor vans were not so reliable as
horse-drawn vehicles.”

It is obvious that what the Post Office required was regularity and
certainty rather than speed for their parcels traffic, and so long as
the motor was constantly liable to breakdowns and maintained uncertain
speeds it was unsuitable.

The steam motor service between London and Redhill was only an
experiment, and the horse-drawn vehicle maintained its old position on
that route until 1902, when the improvements in motors justified the
Post Office in starting a motor service. Since 1902 the London and
Redhill service has been performed by motors. Since 1905 the Brighton
service has been worked by motor van, the daily journey there and back
being 109 miles. In the following year motor vans ran to Hastings,
Tunbridge Wells, and Eastbourne. Then followed in three succeeding years
new motor services to Ipswich, Southampton, Cambridge, Reading,
Portsmouth, Oxford, Birmingham, Stony Stratford and Leicester, Tilbury,
Aylesbury, Dover, and Ramsgate. In addition there were cross services
between Manchester and Liverpool, Birmingham and Warwick and Worcester,
Leeds and York, and a number of other places.

The distance covered by Post Office motor vans runs into several
thousands of miles daily.

Motor vans can travel much faster than the old four-horse coaches.
Palmer's idea of the ultimate speed of the mail coach was 10 miles an
hour. This speed was often attained before 1840, but no doubt the
average all over the country was more like 7 or 8 miles an hour. And
this was the average speed of the Parcel Post horse-drawn coaches. The
usual rate of the motor coaches is 10 miles an hour.

Another advantage claimed by motor vans compared with horse-drawn
coaches is that they can carry heavier loads. The larger night vans can
take a load of 2¼ tons as compared with 1½ tons, the carrying capacity
of the old horse coaches.

Most of these motor mail coaches travel during the night. In the case of
the long-distance services, such as London and Brighton, two vehicles
are used, starting from each end of the journey, meeting half way. It is
remarkable how little the place of meeting varies each journey. De
Quincey, in a footnote to his essay on _The English Mail Coach_, remarks
upon this same feature in the early years of the last century. “One case
was familiar to mail coach travellers when two mails in opposite
directions, north and south, starting at the same minute from points six
hundred miles apart, met almost constantly at a particular bridge which
bisected the total distance.”

These night motor coaches are timed to arrive at their destination so
that the mails conveyed can be distributed by the first morning
delivery. A guard accompanies most of the coaches, and in addition to
looking after the safety of the mails and assisting in loading and
unloading, he sorts parcels received from places _en route_ for places
served by the coach. These vehicles serve, therefore, a similar function
to the Travelling Post Office.

The guards used to carry arms for defence in case of attack, but they
are now only supplied with a truncheon and whistle.

The motor coaches are met at the more important cross roads by smaller
motors and carts, with which they exchange mails. There is in this way a
network of van services stretching over the whole country.

The silent highway is stirred into a sudden activity when the Post
Office night motor van appears. Hundreds of haycarts make their way to
London during the night-time along some of the Essex roads. The drivers
of these carts work very long hours and often fall asleep. The horses
sometimes stop and go to sleep also. These carts standing in the centre
of the highway are often a source of danger to the motor mail vans, and
we can imagine the feelings of a driver of one of the carts when
awakened from a long sleep by the hoot of the motor, and perhaps
realising that he is miles farther from his destination than he should
be.

Hop-pickers in Kent frequently sleep at night with their heads under a
hedge and their feet stretching into the roadway. Accidents have only
been avoided through the alertness of the mail van drivers.

A great difference between driving a horse mail coach and a motor
vehicle is that, in the case of the former, the horses can be trusted to
find their own way if the driver dozed off for a moment. With motors,
however, a similar lapse on the driver's part would spell disaster.

An old mail cart driver whom I once interviewed told me this story. “I
was driving the mail one night from Chesham to Taplow, and arriving at
Beaconsfield, which is nearly half way, I got down from my seat and went
into the inn, saying to the Post Office official who was in attendance
that he could take out the bag himself from the back of the car. He did
so, and then shut down the lid of the mail box with a bang. This was
sufficient notice to the horse that all was ready to start, and off he
trotted without his driver, in the darkness of the night. Ten and a half
miles was the distance he had to travel, and the horse knew his business
as well as the required pace, and he trotted into Taplow station within
a minute of his scheduled time.”

I asked the man if he got into trouble for the apparent neglect of his
Majesty's mails. His face brightened up as the face of every official
does when he recollects the sins he has committed which have not been
found out.

“You see, sir, a porter was waiting for me at the station, and he
wondered, but determined not to give the show away. He unloaded the
mails as if nothing extraordinary was happening. Then he went in search
of me. I walked the distance, full of terrible thoughts and gloomy
fears.” And he added, “I wonder if these much-talked-of motor cars are
likely to be of such service to the Post Office as my good old horse.”

Some time ago a motor mail van was coasting down a Kentish hill on a
dark night, and at a bend of the road, the bright lights of the motor
revealed a dark object lying right across the roadway. The powerful
brakes were quickly applied, and the vehicle was pulled up just in time
to avoid an accident. The obstacle was a railway sleeper, which had
apparently been placed there by some miscreant with the idea of wrecking
the mail. Several men were seen disappearing across the fields skirting
the road when the motor stopped.

On another night a shot was fired at the same motor coach, only narrowly
missing the driver, for the bullet passed through the glass window at
his side. Both outrages are supposed to have been the work of the same
persons, who had some grievance against the motor. They were perhaps
making a last stand on behalf of their friends the horses. Country folk
are conservative above all other people. The horse and cart is to them
almost the divinely appointed means of transit, and to attempt to
overthrow it is sacrilege. All other forms of locomotion are distasteful
to the true countryman. “How did you like foreign parts?” asked a
Kentish farmer of his labourer, who had been across to Boulogne. “Furrin
parts was all right,” replied the labourer, “but that boat! Give me
'orse and cart, sir.”

One night a motor mail driver suddenly pulled up at what appeared to be
an ordinary walking-stick lying across the road. On approaching nearer,
to the consternation of the driver it glided rapidly away. The guard
simply said “Snakes,” and this was the explanation.

The only light along the road for a great part of the way is that
afforded by the motor's own lamps. Wonderful effects on the eye are
often produced between lamplight and darkness, and commonplace objects
often assume uncanny shapes and sizes. A number of heaps of stones
intended for road-mending purposes had lain alongside a certain road for
weeks. One night a motor van driver was startled by what appeared to be
one of these heaps rising suddenly and approaching the coach. His heart
went into his mouth, and he applied his brake, ready for a struggle with
animated stones. And then to his relief—he was not anxious for
miracles—an old white cow looked into his face; she had strayed on to
the road; he had mistaken her for stones.

On some routes the guards of the motors have been employed for many
years. These men seem to have inherited the superstitions common to the
old postboys. On one of the roads out of London the following story is
implicitly believed. A mail van travelling one night knocked down an old
man with a long white beard, seriously injuring him. As the coach was
fully loaded with the mails, there was no room for the injured man, so
he was carefully laid by the roadside out of harm's way and the coach
hastened away for assistance. Returning in a very short time to the
spot, the old man was nowhere to be found, although there were traces of
blood round about. He was never heard of again. At the same spot two
drivers, neither of whom had heard of the previous occurrence, pulled up
their coaches under the firm conviction that they had knocked down an
old man with a long white beard. No trace could be found of the
individual, nor anything which would explain the strange circumstance.
The drivers, however, stick to their stories, and they tell them to you
with the evident conviction that there are more things in heaven and
earth than are dreamt of in your sceptical philosophy. Anyhow, it is a
relief to think that the motors have not driven away the supernatural
from the roads. The spirits are there still, and though men drive motors
instead of horses, they see ghosts just in the same old way as their
fathers. Motor men have not yet established a character of their own, as
was the case with the coach-drivers. There was, years ago, a mail
contractor and wagoner who was stated to be worth £100,000, but he
always dressed in a white smock frock. He bore the delightful name of
Jolly. One winter there was a great deal of snow, and Mr. Jolly thought
he ought to be paid extra for the additional work, but the Department
would not hear of it. So he memorialised the Postmaster-General in a
very unconventional manner, but characteristic of his profession.

“MY LORD,—I, John Jolly, of ——, have conveyed her Majesty's mails over
hedges, ditches, and stone walls, and I, John Jolly, have never been
properly paid for the same.” (Here it is thought he lost his temper and
his limited vocabulary of decent words.) “And I, John Jolly, will see
the Postmaster-General damned before I, John Jolly, do it again.”

Many Post Office memorialists probably mean this when they approach the
Postmaster-General as “obedient servants,” but they have not been
trained on the road.




                              CHAPTER VIII
                     THE UNDELIVERED POSTAL PACKET


It is often brought as a reproach against the General Post Office that
while it occasionally fails to deliver a letter which is only slightly
incorrect in its address, it frequently succeeds if the address is
entirely wrong or is more or less unintelligible to the average reader.
But Post Office men and women have the ordinary human point of view, and
we must not blame them for sometimes despising the solution of simple
difficulties and laying themselves out to solve the larger problems of
official life. Like Naaman, they prefer to be asked to do some great
thing. For one reason, both their chiefs and the public will give them
more credit for solving an apparently hopeless puzzle than for
suggesting a way out of an easy difficulty. They may have in the one
case a paragraph all to themselves in the _Daily Mail_: in the other
case they will not even be thanked by the man who receives the letter,
and who is not modest enough to be surprised because he is known to the
Post Office in spite of an imperfect address.

None the less, the failure of the Post Office to deliver a letter often
means a loss of self-respect to the member of the Department whose duty
it is to find an owner for the packet, and he will make great efforts to
save his reputation.

The Department which deals with the undelivered letters is called the
Returned Letter Office, but the older and more striking name was the
Dead Letter Office. This name, however, gave rise to some
misunderstanding on the part of the simple-minded British public. Many
thought that this office was a place where they could learn all about
dead and missing friends and relatives. Descriptions were frequently
sent as to the age and appearance of lost fathers, husbands, uncles, &c.
For instance, information was required of the whereabouts of “R——, a
carpenter by trade, 5 feet 10½, blue eyes, brown hare, and a cut on the
forreid, a lump on the smorle of his back, and no whiskers.” A lady
wrote this letter: “To the Dead Office Post Office, London. I, the
mother of Michael Roach, beg leave to write to you trusting that you
will kindly send me the necessary information regarding the death of my
son, and if dead you as a gentleman will kindly send me an answer to
this, whether dead or living.”

Other folk who are influenced by superstitious considerations disliked
the gruesome suggestiveness of the title. Hence this letter: “To the
Dead Letter Office. If any of my letters should come to your office that
I have not sent since the last, will you be so kind as to burn them and
never send them back to me. After that one came, as many as 21 persons
have died and been buried in this little place, and I don't know what
will be the end of it. I think this will be my last.”

Communications of this nature may have brought about the change in name,
but I am inclined to think that this was induced by the reluctance of
the staff to admit the deadness of any postal packet which passed
through their hands.

At one time there were Dead Letter Offices only in London, Edinburgh,
and Dublin, but now the chief towns in the Kingdom have their own
Returned Letter Offices, and they deal with the business in their own
districts.

Our first thought will probably be that the work of these offices must
be of a somewhat simple character, but this idea will not survive many
minutes' consideration. A large proportion of the letters are found to
contain enclosures of varying value which require special treatment.
Among them are bank notes, cheques, bills of exchange, letters of
credit, circular notes, dividend warrants, money and postal orders,
stamps, jewellery, and countless articles of value. All these different
items have to be accounted for, and care taken that none but the
rightful owners shall possess them.

The figures relating to these undelivered postal packets are positively
startling. They show an amount of carelessness on the part of the
British public which in these days of universal education is almost
unexplainable. During the year ending March 1910 the total number of
undelivered packets of all kinds, including packets entirely unaddressed
and articles found loose, is estimated to have reached a total of
31,241,000. The curious thing about these figures is that they include
nearly 400,000 packets containing articles of value. The total amount of
money found in addressed and unaddressed packets was £647,832, of which
£15,127 was in cash and bank notes and £632,705 in bills, cheques, money
orders, postal orders, and postage stamps. These figures, of course, do
not include the value of remittances which may have been enclosed in
packets returned unopened to the senders or the value of miscellaneous
property dealt with as undeliverable.

The number of packets of all descriptions posted during the same year
without any address and of articles found loose in the post was 427,000.
Among these were bank notes and cash to the value of about £1500, and
bills, cheques, and other forms of remittance to the value of about
£16,000.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

            _Photo_                        _Clarke & Hyde._
                          THE SORTING OFFICE.

      The final sorting of the letters, which pass through the
      hands of three different sets of sorters. The last set sort
      them into thoroughfares ready for delivery. Notice the
      labels above the shelves. The term “Road” is an interesting
      survival from the old coaching days.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It would almost seem as if we had been instructing our people in the
higher branches of education and that large numbers were still in
ignorance how to address a letter properly or to see that it is stuck
down effectively before it is despatched. The only other explanations
must be that hustling and hurry in business are on the increase, and
that absent-mindedness is a widespread disease.

But sometimes the reasons for the apparent negligence may be quite
different. A heavy letter packet was received as a “Dead Letter” from
Australia. It had been posted in London some three or four years before.
On opening the packet it was found to contain an old leather pocket-book
filled with sovereigns to the number of one hundred. It contained no
name of the sender and no communication whatever. It was kept in the
safe for three years, was not claimed, and the money was eventually paid
into the Revenue.

Another packet mailed “Advertised but not claimed” was returned from the
United States. It contained a valuable gold watch embedded in a book. A
round well had been cleverly cut through all the pages, and in that the
watch had been so tightly deposited that it was difficult to extract it.
There was no writing nor any clue to the sender with it. This was never
inquired for.

It is possible that both these packets were the fruits of robberies, and
the thieves, to avoid the risk of being found with these hauls on them,
had made them up into postal packets and addressed them to places where
they intended to follow, but their plans had been frustrated.

Here is a curious example of carelessness on the part of a member of the
public:—

A registered parcel which reached one of the Returned Letter Branches as
undeliverable was found to contain jewellery the value of which must
have exceeded £2000. The contents included a pearl and diamond necklace
which was valued, according to a letter found in the parcel, at £1100.
The sender was advised in the usual course, and in reply she stated that
the parcel was of great importance, and she requested that it might be
forwarded at once to the correct address (which she furnished), adding
that the amount of postage required for re-direction was enclosed. The
stamps for fresh postage were not, however, enclosed, but were
afterwards received in a registered letter, with a note that the sender
had forgotten to enclose them in the first letter. We should not be
surprised if we heard that the lady was an authoress.

It is no uncommon occurrence for valuable documents to be found in
pillar boxes. Here are a few examples:—Bonds to bearer of the nominal
value of £800 were posted inadvertently with their correspondence by a
firm of brokers; an unaddressed letter from a marquis enclosing a cheque
for £3000; a letter of credit for £1000 posted without address.

A watch and chain, and several articles of personal jewellery such as
might fittingly adorn the person of a gentleman in easy circumstances,
were found in a pillar box, and the why and the wherefore remained for
some time a mystery. Eventually a nurse wrote up to the Head Office
about them, and it then appeared that the articles belonged to a poor
fellow of weak intellect who, on this particular day, escaped from his
keeper, and was subsequently found wandering about in a state of partial
undress.

A small bottle of white powder was found loose in the post some years
ago. It presented no uncommon feature, and was placed with a number of
similar and more or less valuable articles to await inquiry. There was
some astonishment when, a few days later, an inquiry came from a
professor at an English college describing the contents of the phial as
a compound of radium, and stating that the insignificant white powder
was almost priceless.

There have been many instances of letters having been posted in the
receptacles used by scavengers in cleansing the streets. One old lady
complained that letters sent by her were not reaching their destination.
On inquiry it was found that she had been in the habit of posting them
in a drain outside the post office. But her action was quite intelligent
when compared with that of a servant girl who had recently arrived from
a rural district, and was sent by her mistress to the bank with a
pass-book and cash to the value of £38. The maid, it seems, had
possessed from childhood a money-box in the shape of a miniature
pillar-box which she always called her bank, and seeing a duplicate of
her treasure standing in the street she immediately concluded this was
the bank of her mistress; its greater size compared with hers seemed to
be evidence of the fact, in that her mistress was a woman of ample
means. She then posted both pass-book and money in the pillar-box. On
her return she was asked for the pass-book, and replied that she had put
it in with the money. “Whom did you see?” asked the mistress. The girl
replied, “I couldn't see no one, ma'am, although I looked for a long
time in the hole.”

Now let me give a delightful facsimile of the posted packet which is
despatched unaddressed.

A lady, almost overcome with indignation, seized a postcard and wrote an
angry note to her butcher. In her wrath she thought only of the strong
words she wanted to use, and she wrote these on the address portion and
then posted the card, omitting altogether the name and address of the
butcher.

[Illustration: postcard]

The notorious “Spanish Swindle” sometimes comes under notice in the
Returned Letter Offices. One letter addressed “to Don X. Y. Z., Madrid,”
which fortunately for the sender was returned from Spain as
undeliverable, was found to contain £185 in bank notes. The sender was
an illiterate man who had raised all the money he could in the hope of
gaining £10,000.

One of the curious incidents of the office was the return of a letter
from Italy in 1905 marked “undeliverable” which had been posted in
Ireland in 1862. The letter contained a Second of Exchange for £600.

As a rule the public trusts the Post Office too much. They have a kind
of impression that it can work miracles, and very little assistance in
consequence is needed on their part. How else can we explain an address
such as this? “To my dear Father in Yorkshire at the white cottage with
green palings.” This was the address of a packet containing a pair of
steel spectacles which a poor girl was sending to her father, implicitly
believing that the Post Office would deliver it. Of course it could not
be delivered neither could it be returned.

I cannot deny that the Post Office frequently encourages people in the
idea that it can do great things. An Aberystwith postman managed to
deliver to the proper person a letter bearing the address, “Mrs. Brown,
Wearing a Large Bear Boa, Violet Flowers in Bonnet. Promenade mornings,
Aberystwith.” The letter was from the lady's son, who had mislaid his
mother's seaside address. This was a comparatively easy puzzle, and
probably any observant man would have found the lady.

The following was perhaps a little more difficult. An American gentleman
arrived in England, and not knowing where a sister was residing at the
time, addressed a letter to her previous residence thus—

                           “Upper Norwood
                               or Elsewhere.”

The letter was delivered to the lady on the top of a coach in Wales, and
in thanking the Department for what had been done the gentleman said,
“that no other country can show the parallel or would take the trouble
at any cost.”

Here is another quaint address: “To the military gentleman who arrived
from Aldershot on Thursday, who often stays at the Queen's Hotel, and
who wears a long fawn overcoat and light cap. Queen's Hotel.”

I am afraid a great many people furnish puzzle addresses with malice
aforethought, and the Department does its best to discourage such
attempts to waste its time. An official may sometimes make an effort to
deliver such packets, but there is no call upon him to do so. For
instance, a letter was posted in London addressed as follows:—

             “From an old Bachelor
             To a Young Lady,
             The Youngest of Three,
             Who lives in a house
             Close down by the sea.
             The house is quite large,
             Part of it used for a shop,
             Where the relatives
             Deal in tea, bacca, and soap,
             In the scraggy tail end of the British Isles.”

The letter was passed on from one sorter to another, and was finally
hung up. Then a sorter wrote in blue pencil across it—

                “Now, postal officials, don't curse so;
                It's probably intended for Thurso.”

Away went the letter to the extreme north, but Thurso did not own to the
young lady. Kirkwall was then tried, and eventually the packet found an
owner in a village in the Shetland Islands. This was evidently more than
the writer deserved.

A letter was returned undelivered with unmistakable signs on the address
portion of the efforts that had been made by the Department to effect
its delivery. “Not Cæsar,” “Try Hannibal,” “Not in Jupiter,” “Try Mars,”
were the sorters' and postmen's notes, showing that the universe, seen
and unseen, had apparently been searched in vain. Yet the owner of the
letter was simply an able-bodied seaman attached to the Channel Fleet.
Many people will doubtless think what an amusing place the Returned
Letter Office must be, and how interesting must be the duty of reading
the undelivered letters. But they have only to realise the number which
pass through the office daily to understand that very little time can be
given to reading other people's correspondence. Moreover, most of it is
terribly dull and uninteresting to strangers. Now and then the eye of
the clerk spots something good, but he is usually thinking more of
correct addresses than jokes. These lines were found in a lost letter
written from a wife to her husband at sea:—

               “Darling, there is a promise in your eye:
                 I will tend you while I'm living,
               You will whack me while I die—
                 And if death kindly leads me
               To the blessed shades on high
                 What a hundred thousand welcomes
               Shall await you in the sky.”

The man who supplied me with these verses says the lady mis-spelt
“watch” as “whack,” but I see no reason why her sentiments should be
explained away.

I am sorry to say that the complaints of the public respecting the
non-delivery of their letters are not always politely expressed. No
allowance is made for possible errors on the part of the person sending
the letter. The following letter is at least outspoken:—

                         “TO DEAD LETTER OFFICE

“If I don't get an anser to this I shall say there as been rogery at
work somewhere. I wont be rob out of my money not by no one. I sent a
P.O. for a pound and it is hard I should waste my time here. If I dont
receive a anser on Tuesday morning some one will receive vitrol in their
face, if others be rogues I will be villain. i dont mind penal servitude
send a anser as soon as possible if you receive same.”

This is, I suppose, what is called being quits.

The following letter was received by the Postmaster-General, and I have
seldom seen a case in which the accuser comes into court with dirtier
hands:—

“Enclosed please find wrongly addressed envelope which was sent after I
had given my correct address to you. Such careless mistakes are deeply
to be deplored, and I trust they will not occur again.

“Is there in your Dead Letter Office a post-card addressed to Mr. J. M.,
35 —— Villas? If so please return it, as I put the wrong address on it.
It was posted three weeks ago.”

There is more justice in the complaint of a man who claimed £2
compensation because a letter containing no value from the woman he was
engaged to marry had failed to reach him. In his own words: “That letter
I would not have missed for anything—through that I lost a wife. After
returning from a nine months' voyage my intended wife was not to be
found, and I do not consider £2 full compensation.” There is no doubt,
however, that such a sum would have gone a considerable way towards
repairing the loss, but the Department was obliged to inform the man
that the Postmaster-General could not be held responsible for the loss
of the lady. She was not a registered packet.

The form of inquiry which is handed to applicants for missing postal
packets does not err by asking too little. A man had carefully and
laboriously filled up answers to all the questions relevant and
irrelevant to his particular loss, and then he came to the concluding
sentence: “Any other observations should be made here.” At this point,
his pent-up feelings got the better of him, and he wrote simply “Damn.”

Another story bearing on the complexity of this same form tells of the
case of a man who in filling up the form had omitted certain important
particulars. The form was returned for completion, only to come back
from the postmaster to this effect, that “Mr. —— after filling up the
form (in the first instance) had had a fit and died.”

Some postmasters take themselves and their duties very seriously: they
will even pursue a missing packet after it has been found. Application
had been made respecting a missing letter, and in the course of the
official inquiries the papers were referred to the postmaster at the
office of posting with a request for precise particulars of posting.
Directly afterwards a communication was received from the sender saying
that the letter inquired for had been found. This communication was sent
forthwith to the postmaster, who it was assumed would understand that
the inquiry was at an end. But the postmaster was misjudged: he went on
with the case. He kept the case for about six weeks, trying to obtain
from the exasperated sender particulars of the posting of the letter. He
then returned the papers, confessing that he had been baffled, and that
the case was incomplete.

Every Christmas brings a number of letters from children addressed to
Santa Claus. One such letter, addressed “Santa Claus, Chimney Corner,
Heaven,” was sent by a playful sorter to Hever, Edenbridge, for trial.
It is pathetic to think that the destination of all letters so addressed
is the prosaic Returned Letter Office. A spinster lady who lived in a
county town at a house delightfully named “The Haven” wrote to the
Postmaster-General to complain that an official letter had been sent to
her bearing a wrong address. The abode with the restful name had
actually been described as “The Harem”! No wonder the lady's deepest
feelings were aroused, and she was scarcely consoled by the expression
of the Postmaster-General's regret that the envelope had been
inadvertently addressed in this way.

Here is the facsimile of another envelope:—

[Illustration: postcard]

                  For dearie M^{rs} Hibbert
                  The Cottage by the Wood

                  M^r Thomas Hibbert's
                  Farmer and all the rest of it
                  if you take the Carrage Drive
                  you'n find it to ^{th} right on you
                  M^r Postman titherington

Addresses are sometimes obviously taken from invoices or memoranda
forms. “Messrs. Hair cut by machinery,” and

                       “Mr. Richard Funerals
                            at shortest notice
                                       Mile End,”

are of this kind. This sort of thing is often done by foreigners.

People of the same name living in the same place constantly embarrass
the officers of the Department. Two gentlemen, one a Minor Canon and the
other an Independent Minister, each bearing the same Christian name and
surname, lived in a city on the west coast of England, and it sometimes
happened that a letter or parcel intended for the one was delivered to
the other, who sent it on to its rightful owner with an apology. These
mistakes never caused any misunderstanding until a parcel of game for
the Minor Canon was delivered at the house of the Independent Minister,
and in his absence was unopened. As soon as he returned home he
discovered his mistake and sent the game, which was past eating, to the
Minor Canon with a letter of apology. But the loss of the game so upset
the Churchman that he wrote to the Dissenter, “If you had not assumed
the title of Reverend, to which you have no right, this mistake would
not have occurred.” Soon afterwards another parcel was delivered to the
Independent Minister, who found the contents to be manuscript sermons
that had been ordered by the Minor Canon from an agent who supplied
sermons to preachers unable or unwilling to write them. The sermons were
at once repacked and sent to their owner with a note: “Sir, if you had
not assumed an office for which you have no qualifications, this mistake
would not have occurred.”

The Post Office is always delighted to hear of its difficulties being
adjusted by the complainants themselves: it can rarely speak out its own
mind to the obtuse, the ignorant, and the careless. And it is not the
uneducated folk who give the most trouble. In the autumn of 1910 there
appeared in the _Morning Post_ a letter signed “John Brown,” and he
described himself as “senior partner in the firm of Brown, Jones, and
Robinson, Dumpington House, Little Britain.” The letter was obviously
written sarcastically, and was a protest from a typical Briton's point
of view against compulsory service, on the ground that it would mean
interference with his profit-mongering and the curtailment of many of
his luxuries. This is the kind of argument he used. “I have often to
sign my name fifty times in the course of the day—a hard-working man of
business. I must have some relaxation, and how could I obtain this if I
were forced to sell my yacht and give up my moor in Scotland, to say
nothing of my fishing in Norway. What, again, would my wife and family
do without the little villa in the Riviera to fly to from the rigours of
an English winter. And what, I should like to know, would my friends
say, and how long should I retain them, if I had to make these enormous
sacrifices, and all to please a parcel of scaremongers with no knowledge
of business, no sense of duty, no appreciation of the claims of a man
who would get on in the world and make a figure in the social life of
the community?”

A retired military officer read this obviously faked-up letter and
boiled over with indignation. He replied “direct,” as he said in a
letter to the Department, “to Mr. Brown at the address furnished; but to
my surprise my envelope and enclosure were returned through the Dead
Letter Office and marked, as you will see on the envelope, 'Not known.'
I shall be glad if you will say why my letter was returned. As regards
the address, Little Britain, our local postmaster here told me that
Little Britain was London, E.C., and further that as a Londoner he knew
it quite well.”

The Department never laughs, and rarely gives a reply to anybody without
some qualification. The cautious officer dealing with the case replied:
“The address in question _appears_ to be fictitious. It is regretted
that no assistance can be given you in the matter.” This last sentence
may of course have been intentionally subtle, because the assistance
which the military gentleman required was evidently in the direction of
the surgical operation recommended by Sydney Smith to obtuse North
Britons.

The Department was called upon to explain a joke in another instance.
The following note appeared outside a wrapper, addressed from Canada to
this country:—

“This package contains a pair of undressed kids, size 6¾, colour black
finish, extra fine: trade No., 23; manufactured in Paris, France, by
Lemoine Fils & Co. To Mrs. J. Smith.”

The recipient, on receipt of the packet, addressed this letter to the
Postmaster-General:—

“DEAR SIR,—The addressee of the enclosed envelope was the recipient
recently of the empty envelope and fillings which I beg to enclose for
your inspection. The packet originally contained a pair of black kid
gloves sent by Mr. J. Jones, Montreal. The gloves were evidently
abstracted in Montreal, as a paper filling, a Montreal newspaper, was
used as a blind to fill up the package. I can assure you that it could
not have been the nature of a joke. If you can help me in this matter
you will confer a favour on yours truly, ——”

Notice the Sherlock-Holmes-like touch in tracing the theft to Montreal.
The Post Office again “helped” with this letter. “Inquiry will certainly
be made on the receipt of a description from the sender of any article
missing from the packet. It is, however, pointed out that the postage
prepaid is only sufficient for the present contents and would not carry
a pair of gloves, that the cover bears the name of a toy company, and
that the superscription may perhaps be a jocular allusion _to the black
figures of undressed children enclosed in the envelope_.”

Every year the Postmaster-General makes the same appeal to the erring
British public; he tells them the same pitiful tale of undelivered
letters and parcels; he begs that ordinary care and discretion may be
observed; and yet the trouble goes on. It is curious how the educated
public as well as the uneducated fail in this matter.




                               CHAPTER IX
                     MONEY ORDERS AND POSTAL ORDERS


The first business undertaken by the General Post Office, other than
that of the despatch and delivery of correspondence, was the Money Order
system. This has existed for considerably more than a century, but it
was not taken over by the Post Office until the year 1838. It is not
difficult to understand why the need for the system became urgent in
carrying on the service of the posts. The sending of letters containing
money was a constant and almost necessary practice, and the frequent
thefts of letters of this kind became a public scandal. In 1791 a scheme
was proposed to the Postmaster-General, but the legal adviser of the
Department raised difficulties, and eventually it was decided that the
business could not be officially adopted. Then followed the curious
history of a private undertaking sanctioned and encouraged by the
Postmaster-General. The six Clerks of the Roads, who were already
conducting a large newspaper business for their own advantage, came
forward with a proposal to undertake a Money Order plan, or as it was
then called a “Money Letter” plan, and the Postmaster-General decided to
give it official countenance. That is to say, he bore the cost of
advertising it and allowed the advices of the Money Orders to go free by
post under the frank of the Secretary of the Post Office. The Clerks of
the Roads traded under the name of a private firm. They issued orders
and advices very much as at present, the amounts paid and received being
accounted for quarterly with the Clerks of the Roads.

The theory of those opposed to the Postmaster-General undertaking
directly the business, was that the money used by the country
postmasters in the business was not the public revenue, but money which
they had received as agents for the Clerks of the Roads in their
newspaper business.

The scheme came into operation on 1st October 1792, and the limit of a
Money Order was fixed at £5, 5s., and the commission charged was at
first 6d. in the £1, of which the payee contributed half. The commission
was reduced in 1793 to 4d. for Orders to and from London, while it
remained at 6d. between country towns. Subsequently the commission rose
to 8d. in the £1 for all Orders, in addition to stamp duty.

Over and above the commission on the Orders and the stamp duty the
persons making use of them were obliged to pay the high postage of
double letters, as the packet would contain both a letter and a Money
Order. This was felt to be such a burden that in 1837 the Orders were
printed at the top of a large sheet of paper on which a letter might be
written, and the whole might pass for a single postage.

The capital embarked originally in the Money Order business by the
Clerks of the Roads was £1000, and it does not seem to have been, even
with the countenance of the Post Office, a paying concern, for in 1798
the Clerks of the Roads abandoned it, their loss on the six years'
trading being £298. Three of the clerks, however, continued the business
as a private speculation, and the anomaly of the arrangement came in for
a great deal of adverse criticism. At last, in 1829, a Commission
reported that they entirely disapproved of such a concern being carried
on by private persons for their own profit, and they recommended “that
its management should be directly controlled by proper officers of the
Department, and that the produce be appropriated to the Revenue.” It was
nine years, however, after the Commission reported before the
Postmaster-General was able to act on the suggestion, and to compensate
the officers whose vested interests in the business had to be
considered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration:

  THE LONDON POSTMAN.
  (Old Style.)
]

      The London postman of seventy or eighty years ago had to
      collect and account for the charge made on every letter, and
      there were no letter-boxes in front doors where he could
      discharge his correspondence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A large amount of coin was still sent by post, and with the intention of
taking away all inducements to remit money in this way the commission
was reduced in 1840 to 3d. and 6d. The number of Orders issued from 1797
to 1800 averaged 11,880 a year; in 1839, when the Post Office had taken
over the business, the numbers rose to 188,000; and in the following two
years after the rates were reduced the numbers were 587,000 in 1840 and
1,500,000 in 1841.

The Penny Postage reform gave a tremendous impetus to the use of Money
Orders, and by the year 1853 the number had reached 5,000,000. Further
reductions and adjustments of rates were made, and by 1870 the number
stood at 9,750,000 Orders issued during one year; and in 1878 the
highest number on record was reached, viz. 18,000,000. On sums of 10s.
and under, only 1d. had been charged since 1871, and this low charge was
found to be unremunerative. There was a loss on the whole business, and
the rates were raised again in 1878. The introduction of Postal Orders
in 1881 led to a diversion of much of the Money Order business,
especially in the matter of small sums.

There are many stories in existence of the early days of the Money Order
Office. All public offices have a sort of atmosphere of their own, a
tradition of work and the manner of work which lingers persistently
under altering conditions. When the Money Order Office came under the
direct control of the Post Office it was a long time before it was able
to shake off the traditions of its early history as a private concern.
Those were the days before competitive examinations, and when men could
be pitchforked into high positions in the Civil Service from outside
without official experience. In 1841 a President was appointed to the
new Money Order Office, and his claim to the post seems to have been
that he lent the premises which he occupied as a timber-merchant for
political purposes. These were burnt down, and as compensation for
disturbance his political friends rewarded him with a position at the
Post Office.

If all the stories are true this ex-timber-merchant was a remarkable man
and a still more remarkable official. Hourly his bell was rung. The
messenger appeared. “What did I have last?” “Half a pint of stout, sir.”
“Then bring me half a pint of bitter.” Another hour passed and the same
form was gone through. “What did I have last?” “Half a pint of bitter,
sir.” “Then bring me half a pint of stout.”

It was said that until the Money Order Office was taken in hand
seriously by the Department, the most conspicuous article of office
furniture was the pewter pot. At about 11 A.M. the potman from the old
“Raglan” opposite used to come over with a great tray full of pints and
half-pints, and the clerks drank the health of their friends and
themselves before tackling the arduous business of the day. The potman
grew to consider himself a member of the Post Office staff, and he is
said on one occasion to have sharply reprimanded the Secretary of the
Post Office in language peculiar to his class, for not making way for
the pots to pass him on the stairs. In the potman's eyes it was as big a
crime as to delay the advance of his Majesty's mails.

This first President was said to be very amenable to the softening
influence of a judicious present. The clerk who wanted a holiday would
call in at Sweeting's and buy a brace of pheasants. Then he would put in
his application for leave with the pheasants. Things were very lax
indeed. One man was asked to explain his absence on a Saturday morning,
and he replied: “My absence to-day was really not intended on my part. I
mistook the day of the week, and thought the day was Sunday.” I do not
know whether it was in finding the door of his parish church closed that
he discovered his mistake.

A man absented himself from the Office during the first three days of
the week, and then calmly explained on the Thursday morning that he had
overslept himself; in no other way could he explain the passing of the
three days.

In those days, when a new Postmaster-General had an opportunity of using
his patronage, new officers used to come up from the country in batches.
Three or four Cumberland men, newly appointed as clerks, arrived at the
Money Order Office one morning in a farmer's cart, in which they had
been driven up to town from the north. They had saved their coach fares,
and were mightily proud of their achievement.

The Office was moved in 1847 from St. Martin's le Grand to an ugly and
lofty building in Aldersgate Street. It was frankly stated at the time
that “the building was not intended to be an ornament to the City, but
_only_ the Money Order Office.” Those who remember this unsightly
building do not require the unnecessary explanation.

In 1850 a new President was appointed, and he proved to be a different
man from his predecessor, and to the astonishment of his subordinates he
declined pheasants and refused special leave. The Office had now grown
considerably, and there were no less than 160 clerks. In 1854 a
Commission, of which the late Sir Stafford Northcote was chairman, made
a thorough investigation into the working of the Office, and many of the
old abuses were swept away. One of the reforms which affected the public
was to allow crossed Orders to be paid through banks without the usual
formalities over a post office counter.

Almost from the first the Office undertook the free payment of Orders
issued by the spending departments at Whitehall, the greater part of
which consisted of Orders issued by the Admiralty and War Office in
payment of pensions to soldiers and sailors. No payment is made to the
Post Office for the work, but the advantages to the pensioner are great
and obvious. By means of Money Orders they obtain payment at the nearest
offices to their homes instead of having to attend personally at central
pay offices and running the risk of being swindled by sharpers.

The Foreign Order system came into operation during the Crimean War. The
British army in the East, and especially the civilian element of the
expedition, who had not, like the soldiers, a regular official means of
remitting money home, felt the need of some special arrangements for
this purpose. Miss Nightingale remitted for these people no less a sum
than £50 a week during 1855, and at the end of the year it was decided
that the Army Post Office should issue Money Orders at inland rates at
Constantinople, Scutari Headquarters, and Balaclava. The system began in
January 1856, and during the first eight weeks more than £13,000 was
remitted. The total amount sent home during the war was £106,000.

In 1859 a Money Order Convention was arranged with Canada. The
Postmaster-General reported on this as follows: “The enlargement of the
Money Order system has worked very satisfactorily, and will, I hope,
lead to the extension to other Colonies. Such an extension would, I am
convinced, be productive of much good, would save much money that now
probably runs to waste, would afford great relief to many weak and aged
persons, separated by the broad ocean from the younger and more vigorous
members of the family, and would materially promote self-supporting
immigration.”

The Money Order system was extended in 1862 and 1863 to Cape Colony, to
the Australian and several of the West Indian Colonies. The rest of the
Colonies soon followed the example.

Switzerland began to exchange Orders with us in 1869. Six months later
Belgium followed, and then Germany came into the system in 1871. The
United States and France followed suit a few years later. Spain and some
of the States of Central and South America are now the only countries of
importance with which this country does not exchange Money Orders.

The Foreign and Colonial Branch of the Office conducts a most
complicated business. It is supposed to have the world's geography at
its fingers' ends, to be able to find the whereabouts of every remote
hamlet in South Africa or North America, to read half-a-dozen foreign
languages, and to understand a score of systems of currency. The clerks
are expected to be able to pacify hungry and ill-looking Poles and
Italians, whose ignorance of the English language is only equal to their
inability to grasp our system.

Some years ago, in a discussion on the attitude of the Church of Rome
towards the Church of England, Mr. Gladstone wrote a letter to the
_Times_ on the subject which was very much quoted in other journals.
Several poor foreigners from the East End called at the Money Order
Office in great distress. They had sent money abroad in postal notes and
orders, and inquired anxiously as to their safety, as they had been
alarmed by hearing that the Roman Catholic Archbishop had denied in the
papers “the validity of Anglican orders.” This is a good story even if
it is not true.

I am reminded of a joint application to the Department by a clergyman
and an official of the Bank of England. The occupations of the two were
described as “Clerks in Holy Orders and in Bank of England.” In justice
to the clergyman, the description is in the writing of the Bank of
England clerk.

Telegraph Money Orders were first introduced in 1889, and several years
later the system was extended to most of the European countries.

Postal Orders were first issued in 1881, and from the first were a huge
success. Nearly 650,000 were sold during the first three months, and the
immediate effect was a reduction in the issue of Money Orders. The
Postmaster-General in one of his reports was able to say that “Money
Orders are often lost and often stolen, but the departmental check is so
complete that not more than one in every hundred thousand of the Orders
issued is paid to other than the lawful owner.” That was a proud but
justifiable boast, but of course it is a different matter altogether
with the Postal Order. Still its cheapness and handiness outweighed all
risks, and its popularity has never diminished. The total number of
Orders issued during 1910 was 125,855,000, and the commission on them
realised £483,421.

The competitions arranged of late years by magazines and newspapers in
the shape of missing words, Limericks, and puzzles have been felt
nowhere more keenly than in the Postal Order branch. Some years ago a
member of the staff in a private letter gave her experiences of a time
of stress of this kind. “We are at present inundated with _Pearson's
Weekly_. It is like the charge of the Light Brigade. Bundles to the
right of us, bundles to the left of us, upstairs and downstairs. Pearson
says in some interview that one of his female clerks counts the Postal
Orders at the rate of 14,000 an hour with very few mistakes. The
ordinary rate for the Post Office clerks who have had a good deal of
experience, and who do it all day long, is between 3000 and 4000 per
hour, and there are very few mistakes. I think any one who tried to
count more than that would be a raving lunatic soon, and at any rate
would not be able to continue at that speed (viz. 14,000 an hour) for
six or seven consecutive hours. On one Tuesday morning a postmaster sent
his ordinary requisition for a fortnight's supply, and over and above
this asked for 250 at 1s. for some gentlemen who had already paid for
them and wanted them urgently by Wednesday. When the competitions were
announced to end several postmasters wrote asking for their stock to be
taken back, as they were now overstocked. We ourselves helped to swell
the number, and we have won occasionally, so that on the whole we don't
mind the rush very much. There was one gentleman we heard of who having
already sent up several words in one competition, thought of another at
the last moment. He rushed out to the nearest post office, and asked a
flaxen-haired damsel behind the counter for the necessary shilling
Order. She had a scared look in her face, and she did not reply to the
gentleman. She simply called out despairingly, 'Father, here's another,'
and fled. And the father put the shutters up, turned the gas out, and
the word never reached Pearson's.”

In the Postmaster-General's report for 1908 reference is made to the
demand during 1907 for sixpenny orders in connection with “Limerick”
competitions. The Postmaster-General is never flippant, nor does he feel
bound as the head of a big business to deprecate this particular form of
gambling: indeed there is almost a note of jubilation in the way he
records an advance in the sales of Postal Orders of 23,000,000, largely
due, as he says, to the competitions. And in his report for 1909 there
is just a shade of disappointment in his manner of stating that the
falling off in the sale of Orders, amounting to more than 10,000,000, is
due to the passing away of the “Limerick” competitions.

Both in the Money Order and Postal Order Departments a great deal of the
seamy side of our social life is revealed. Considerable numbers of Money
Orders are sent to various lottery agents abroad, not a few go to firms
of horse-racing bookmakers. Sometimes the public is unreasonable; it is
curious how inquiries about money are usually expressed angrily and
suspiciously. A payee was asked for full particulars of his Order,
merely in order to trace it and help him to his lost property. His reply
was on a postcard: “Why this humbug? I want my money.”

One man had sent an Order to purchase a performing dog, but wanted his
money back, because “the dog that played tricks was a fraud, and could
no more sham death than a dying duck in a thunderstorm could sing the
National Anthem.” There was a twist in the man's mind which somehow led
him to associate the Post Office with the dog having been palmed off on
him.

A small boy altered the amount on an Order, and on being found out wrote
up to the Secretary, “I am a Sunday School scholar, and have been to
Sunday School all the days of my life,” and he wound up with, “O Lord,
forgive me.” The father undertook to administer the cane to the young
scholar, and the Secretary did not pursue the matter.

In spite of the huge number of posted Orders which are issued, a small
percentage only go astray. Extra commission is charged on Orders not
presented within a given time, and there are often cases when on an
Order being presented it is found that this extra commission amounts to
more than the value of the Order. In every recorded instance of this
sort the payee has preferred to retain the Order! People have sometimes
inadvertently thrown Orders on the fire, and have then collected the
ashes in a little tin box, which they have sent to the Department as a
guarantee of their good faith, and not with any hope that the Order can
be identified from the ashes. Applications have even been received
respecting Orders which have accidentally been “sent to the wash,” but
the cleansing process has not been successful enough to obliterate the
printing, and the Order can be cashed.

“They told me at the Post Office to go to the devil, and so I have come
to you about my missing Order,” exclaimed an excitable gentleman as he
entered the Inquiry Office.

We hear many complaints of the incivility of Post Office clerks, but
there is often another side to the matter. Some day, perhaps, a literary
counter clerk will give us his opinions on the civility of the British
public. Think of the numerous inquiries and complaints which are
addressed in an hour to the busy man or woman behind the counter on
every conceivable subject of Post Office business, and we may wonder
sometimes at the tempers which are not lost. In _Household Words_, many
years ago, there was a description of the scene at a Money Order
counter. “The clerks in this office ought to rival the lamented Sir
Charles Bell in their knowledge of the expression of the hand. The
varieties of hands that hover about the grating and are thrust through
the little doorways in it are a continual study for them—or would be if
they had time to spare, which assuredly they have not. The
coarse-grained hand, which seems all thumb and knuckle and no nail, and
which takes up money or puts it down with such an odd, clumsy, lumbering
touch: the retail trader's hand, which clinks it up and tosses it over
with a bounce: the housewife's hand, which has a lingering propensity to
keep some of it back, and to drive a bargain by not paying in the last
shilling or so of the sum for which her Order is obtained: the quick,
the slow, the coarse, the fine, the sensitive and dull, the ready and
unready—they are always at the grating all day long.” And the Post
Office man or woman has to humour the possessors of these hands, to be
patient with the foolish, to be restrained with the impatient, “to be
merciful towards the absurd,” and to pay out or receive money all the
time. Not all men and very few women understand the mysteries of change
and commissions, and when they don't understand they suspect, and when
they suspect they become unreasonable. It is difficult to say whether
the public is most touchy when cashing or purchasing an Order. But in
both cases it thinks it is being done by the long-suffering individual
behind the counter.




                               CHAPTER X
                      THE POST OFFICE SAVINGS BANK


The extension of banking facilities for the upper and middle classes of
this country during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries only
benefited the working classes indirectly. If they wished to save
anything out of their earnings they were either obliged to resort to the
time-honoured expedient of hiding their money in out-of-the-way corners
of their houses or gardens or they entrusted it to the care of private
individuals or institutions, and were in consequence without adequate
security. Even in these days the old method of hiding their savings is
adopted by many people, but the treasure is now not always money but the
Savings Bank deposit book. A man once wrote to the Controller of the
Post Office Savings Bank to explain the loss of his deposit book, and he
said: “How I came to lose my book was, in a fright I buried it in my
garden with other valuables. The garden, unfortunately for me, is very
large, and I could never remember afterwards in what part I put it.
Within the last month I have sold the premises, and being so deep it is
not likely to be found by any one.” The value of the Savings Bank came
home to him when he realised that in burying his book he had not hidden
his money. A new book was all that he required.

I believe that the first recorded instance of the establishment of a
Savings Bank in the United Kingdom was in the year 1810, in the little
village of Ruthwell in Scotland. The minister of the church, the Rev.
Henry Duncan, D.D., conceived the idea for the benefit of his
parishioners, but found at first great difficulty in persuading people
to entrust their money to him. To meet the difficulty a box was provided
with three padlocks, which could only be opened in the presence of the
three different holders of the keys. This box is still in existence, and
was produced at the centenary of the opening of Savings Banks held at
Edinburgh in 1910.

In 1817 Trustee Savings Banks were established in certain towns under
regulations fixed by Act of Parliament, and for nearly half a century
these institutions provided a means by which the small savings of the
public could be deposited at a fixed rate of interest. But these were
local banks, and there were still vast areas of population unprovided
for in the matter of banking facilities. What was wanted was a system
for the whole of the country, something which could really be regarded
as a People's Bank.

The rapid extension of the Money Order system, and the creation in every
town and in almost every village of a post office where business other
than that of the receipt and despatch of correspondence was conducted,
suggested to Mr. C. W. Sikes, a bank official of Huddersfield, that here
was the organisation for the purpose. He wrote in 1860 an open letter to
Mr. Gladstone, who was at the time Chancellor of the Exchequer, in which
he pointed out that there were eighteen counties and 2000 towns without
a Savings Bank of any kind. He directed Mr. Gladstone's attention to the
success of the Money Order system, and he urged him to use the same
medium for savings, “for thereby you bring the Savings Bank within less
than an hour's walk of the fireside of every working man in the
Kingdom.” The appeal was successful. Mr. Gladstone with characteristic
enthusiasm adopted the plan, and carried a Bill through Parliament to
give effect to the proposals. On the 16th September 1861 Post Office
Saving Banks were opened in 300 towns, and from that date onwards the
story has been one of continued progress. According to the
Postmaster-General's report of 1910 the number of Post Office Savings
Bank accounts, excluding those which experience has shown are dormant,
was 7,913,295, and the amount of money standing to the credit of
depositors was £164,596,065. The average amount of each deposit was £2,
7s. 9d.

Here, therefore, we have a People's Bank actually established in our
midst, and the best excuse of the improvident no longer exists.

During the fifty years of its existence, remarkable developments have
taken place in the working of the Post Office Savings Bank. The
facilities for the public have been increased enormously, so much so
that the old idea of a bank existing simply for the encouragement of
thrift has been considerably modified. The ease with which withdrawals
can now be made, and the extension in the limits of money which may be
deposited annually, have provided the man or woman of small means with
most of the advantages to be obtained from the possession of a current
account at a private or joint-stock bank. And he obtains one additional
advantage, in that on any sum from £1 upwards he obtains 2½ per cent.
interest. These increased facilities are looked upon with disfavour by
those who consider that the slight difficulties which were for many
years placed in the way of those who wished to withdraw money, were
created in the interests of the depositors themselves.

In order to bring out clearly what are the benefits of which I have
spoken, let me state briefly the possibilities which are open to a man
who becomes a depositor. He goes to any post office where Savings Bank
business is transacted, and after signing a declaration and depositing
any sum, not containing fractions of a shilling, up to £50, a book is
handed to him in which his transactions are recorded. That book can be
used at any Post Office Savings Bank in the United Kingdom for deposits
or withdrawals. He can deposit £50 in any year until a total of £200 is
reached, and in addition he can replace the amount of one withdrawal
made during any year. Further, he can invest in six different kinds of
Government Stock to the amount of £200 Stock in a year, or £500 Stock in
all, and he can make special deposits to cover his investments,
irrespective of the limits fixed for his deposit account. Roughly
speaking, he can therefore hold £200 in his deposit account and at the
same time be the possessor, through the medium of the Post Office, of
Stock of the nominal value of £500. The smallest amount of Stock he can
purchase is one shilling. Means are provided by which he can transfer
his Stock from time to time to the books of the Bank of England, and so
enable him to continue purchasing Stock by means of his deposit account.
Or he can buy a Stock certificate with coupons for dividends annexed.
The commission on every transaction is considerably below that charged
by a stockbroker.

Occasionally there appears in the press a demand for the popularisation
of Consols, and it is suggested that the Post Office should be the
medium of selling across the counter to the British public scrip for
small amounts of Government Stock. There should be no book transactions
with the public, and the scrip could be disposed of at the price of the
day, when the owner wished to sell. The people who make this demand
usually show a lamentable amount of ignorance as to what the Post Office
does in this matter. They argue as if there were no opportunities for
the British public to invest in Consols in small amounts, as the French
do in their own Government securities. It may come as a surprise to many
people, who are inclined to entertain favourably the proposals I have
mentioned, that considerably over £23,000,000 Stock is held already by
depositors in the Post Office Savings Bank, and that the average amount
credited to each person is about £140 Stock. The facilities for purchase
and sale are as easy as it is possible to arrange.

There is also another consideration which should make the present system
more valuable to the man of small means or the workman who wishes to
invest in Government Stock. The purchase is registered in his name in
the Stock registers of the Post Office. If he were to buy the Stock
across the counter he would be handed the scrip or bond, and he would
have the great responsibility on his shoulders of keeping it in a safe
place. A great deal of the value of the Savings Bank to the working
classes is that it takes care of their property: they get the money out
of the house, where its presence is always an anxiety. Under the
proposed arrangement the man would have to look after his scrip. A poor
woman was asked why she despatched £100 in bank notes direct to the
Controller of the Post Office Savings Bank without her book or any
letter showing what she wanted done, or without even indicating whether
she held an account at all. She simply replied, “I wanted to get it out
of the house: the anxiety was wearing me to pieces lest it should be
stolen, and I was told the Controller would take care of it for me.”
That is surely the supreme advantage which the Post Office system
offers, and it is a backward step to ask poor people to become again
their own bankers, and in fact force them once more to the hiding of
their treasure in the back garden or under the floors.

It is interesting to know that the small investors of the Post Office
Savings Bank follow the rise and fall in the Stock markets with
considerable keenness. A fall in price means an immediate increase in
the number of investments, and of course with a rise the sales are
similarly affected. Many, however, unfortunately invest in sheer
ignorance of what they are doing, and the reputation of the Post Office
suffers in their eyes when they lose by the transaction.

But let us get back to our imaginary depositor. If he wishes to withdraw
from his deposit account a sum not exceeding £1, he can obtain it on
demand from any post office on production of his book, and on his
satisfying the paying officer of his identity as the depositor in the
account. If he wishes to withdraw any sum by the ordinary means he
forwards a notice of withdrawal to the Head Office in London, and he
receives a warrant for the amount payable at any post office named by
him.

If he is in urgent need of any sum not exceeding £10 he can, instead of
forwarding by post a notice of withdrawal, telegraph for the money to
the Head Office, and instructions will be sent by telegram to the local
postmaster to pay him on production of his book and proof of identity.
In out-of-the-way villages the paying officer is often a small tradesman
who has a limited vocabulary and does not readily grasp the meaning of
his instructions from headquarters. The meaning of the word “identity”
was evidently misunderstood by one postmaster, who replied to the Head
Office after paying money to a depositor, “The postmaster is quite
satisfied with the depositor, and finds no identity in him whatever.” I
cannot imagine to what ignominious examination the depositor was
subjected, but as he was paid his money without establishing his
identity, I presume he as well as the postmaster was satisfied.

A depositor can also purchase an Immediate or Deferred Annuity through
the Post Office Savings Bank, and payments are made to him at his local
post office. He can insure his life, and his premiums are paid by
deductions from his deposit account. But this cannot be said to be a
prosperous business. The Post Office is at a disadvantage compared with
more popular Industrial Insurance Societies because of its steady
refusal to employ canvassers.

Broadly speaking, these represent the chief advantages of an account in
the Post Office Savings Bank, and the great principle which underlies
the whole of the undertaking is that every transaction, in whatever
corner of the United Kingdom it takes place, has to be registered at the
Head Office in London. Every depositor's account is entered in a ledger,
and the account must correspond exactly with his deposit book.

The average cost to the Department of every transaction is now about
5d., and it will readily be seen that after payment of 2½ per cent.
interest, and allowing for thousands of small deposits and withdrawals,
there is not much room for profit to the Government out of the business.
For the funds of the Savings Bank are invested in Consols, and the
reduction in the rate of interest on Consols from 3 per cent. to 2¾ per
cent. and again to 2½ per cent. has seriously affected its
revenue-producing capacity. But previous to 1896 a different tale was
annually told, and the total surplus up to that year amounted to
£1,598,767. Then in the years immediately preceding the South African
War, the price of Consols rose considerably above par, and the day of
annual deficits began. A slight profit was again made in the years
1900-1902, but the rate of interest on Consols was then reduced to 2½
per cent., and there has been no appreciable recovery since. No
Government seems inclined to make the obvious but unpopular move of
reducing the interest allowed to depositors.

There is, however, another way of looking at the matter, which perhaps
disposes us less to insist on the Department being managed entirely as a
revenue-producing institution. The advantages to the public outweigh the
comparatively small annual loss which is now sustained—the loss in 1909
was £50,481—and the primary object of the founders of Savings Banks was
benevolence. The Post Office Savings Bank makes no such claim, but it
does aspire to be a convenience to the people of this country.

The depositors are drawn from all classes of the country. Though
originally intended for the benefit of the working classes, the
conveniences provided appeal to almost everybody. The Post Office is
always at hand in every village or town to receive small sums. Cheques
are accepted for deposit, and it is found that many people use their
accounts chiefly as a means by which they can dispose of crossed cheques
received by them.

At the back of this huge undertaking is the credit of the nation: there
is complete security for every depositor, and it is difficult to
conceive of a run on the Savings Bank, although a very large number of
the depositors are of that class which most readily succumbs to a panic.

The Head Office is at Blythe Road, West Kensington, and the size of the
building can be imagined when I say that the staff consists of 3263
persons, of whom 1826 are women. The Ledger Branch, in which every
depositor's account is kept, is managed entirely by female clerks. The
Correspondence and Account Branches are in the hands of the men clerks,
and to them falls the duty of directing and advising the depositors as
to their transactions. Much of the work provides an admirable index of
the ways of the British people. It has been said that a man lays by
money for a rainy day, but the experience of the Controller of the Post
Office Savings Bank is that he more often lays money by for a fine day.
Large sums are annually deposited, only to be withdrawn at the different
Bank Holidays. At Christmas time the largest amounts are usually
withdrawn, and then immediately afterwards, during the first weeks of
January, under the influence of the good resolutions which are usually
formed at this period, vast sums are deposited, and the largest number
of new accounts are opened.

To the outsider the business of the Department may seem to consist
mainly of the simple work of receiving and paying away money, but the
correspondence with the public on matters arising out of their accounts
is a huge item in the day's work. Correspondence is necessary on such
subjects as depositors insane, depositors abroad, depositors married,
husbands' claims, depositors deceased, lost deposit-books, fraudulent
withdrawals, and “depositors apprehensive.” The difficulties and
perplexities of the British public on the subject of money are known to
no person more fully than the Controller of the Post Office Savings
Bank. He is sometimes tempted to wonder what are the benefits achieved
by the Compulsory Education Acts. For instance a depositor writes: “I
received from your General Post Office a paper containing all about
Stock, and I do not quite understand it, whether it is for land, corn,
or silk stuffs. As I am taking up in it will you kindly write and let me
know.” Many farmers who are familiar only with one application of the
word “Stock” have desired to make purchases of cattle through the medium
of the Post Office. And one lady who had exceeded the amount allowed in
her deposit account was asked if she would like to invest the excess in
Stock, and she replied regretfully that her garden was already full up,
and she had no room for more.

A depositor who had presumably suffered from recent fluctuations of
price in the Stock market wrote a letter to the Controller and addressed
the envelope: “The Roleing Stock Department, General Post Office.” It
was delivered in the first place, of course, to the Stores Department,
General Post Office.

A large proportion of the depositors are still unable to read or write.
A man, not connected with any Savings Bank account himself, wrote on
behalf of a depositor and explained his action in this way: “I 'ad the
whole business thro' my 'and cos he was an ilitrate.” This is clearly a
case where a little knowledge may produce a swollen head.

“I am married and wish to carry on as before,” wrote a lady depositor.
This is not the first time a daughter of Eve has made the effort to eat
her cake and have it.

Friendly Societies, Provident and Charitable Societies, and Penny Banks
are allowed to deposit under special concessions as regards limits, and
vast sums are dealt with annually in this way. Large numbers of these
societies are managed entirely by the working people themselves, and the
rules which are drawn up have to be approved by the Department before
any money can be accepted. An application was once received from three
trustees of a Friendly Society addressed to the Postmaster-General, who
was at the time Lord Wolverton. From the alterations in the letter it
was apparent that much discussion had arisen as to the proper manner in
which a letter to his Lordship signed by three persons should be
commenced. “My Lord” was evidently considered ungrammatical, and the
letter eventually started with the words “Our Lord.” The effort to
construct rules which shall pass muster with the Postmaster-General
often appears to tax the members of the working class clubs
considerably. Some try the grand style. “The objects of this club are
the glory of God, the honour of the King, and the decent interment of
our members.” Not so bad for a small burial club. Better, perhaps, still
is this from musicians: “That the objects of the band shall be to work
for Christ's Kingdom, the Bankshire and West Mercia Tabernacle to have
first claim on its services.” Others endeavour to imitate legal
phraseology with wonderful results. “Any member while on the funds
carrying on his proper or improper occupation shall forfeit his
benefit.” It would evidently be no use to plead that though you had
earned other money while receiving benefits your luck was due to having
successfully backed a winner. But in most cases the rules are drawn up
in the people's own idioms. For instance, “Our Society is in case if a
member should have a Pig Die with the Swine Fever or any unnateral death
so as to receive the worth of the Pig out of the Fonds of this Society.
We are cheefly agriculteral laberers.” I like the last touching
confession. I like also the quiet assumption that the Postmaster-General
will know what is the natural death of a pig.

“All our transactions with the General Post Office have been straight
and above-board so far,” wrote the secretary of a society, thus holding
out grim possibilities of what might be expected in the future.

“Any member who has a complaint can give it to the under-mentioned
gentlemen who were elected at the committee.” So runs a rule of a
working man's sick club, and it seems to me a far simpler plan than
sending for the doctor.

“Help one another Infectious Diseases Club,” is the pleasant name of
another society.

But perhaps the most human documents of all are to be found in the
correspondence relating to the claims of deceased depositors'
representatives. In hundreds of cases there are to be found tragedy and
comedy, and glimpses of what the struggle of life means to the working
populations. All accounts under £100 of deceased depositors who have
left no will have to be distributed by the Postmaster-General under the
Statutes of Distribution, and a difficult matter this is sometimes in
the case of large families. Payment of these small sums is also made on
production of a will, and these documents are often pathetic as well as
amusing. Here is one: “I leave everything to my wife. I did not know it
was wrong to sell those hens. I will be a teetotaller as near as
possible. I have said things which had no meaning.” This was evidently
written when the man was seriously ill, and we seem to understand at
once his own little weaknesses as well as the trials of his wife. One
likes especially the way he hedges about the drink question: there is
evidently a chance of his recovery from the illness.

A mother on claiming the money deposited by her dead son was asked if
the father were alive. “Father living but insignificant,” was her
illuminating reply. A claimant to the money of a deceased depositor
explained his omission to furnish a correct list of the next of kin in
this way: “Her relations are robbing me through thick and thin, and I
think it is my turn to start.” The Department declined to admit the
cogency of the argument.

A person on applying for an insurance through the Post Office Savings
Bank was asked among other questions to state the cause of his father's
death. His answer was: “I don't know; I can't remember; but it was
nothing serious.”

The son of a depositor claimed his father's money, but inquiries made by
the Department revealed the fact that he was born before marriage, and
consequently could not claim as next of kin. The claimant was delicately
informed of his disqualification. He then tried to establish a claim as
creditor of his father's estate, and sent in a bill containing the
following item: “Shock to system on learning of my illegitimacy, £2,
5s.” This is what the late President Kruger would have called “moral and
intellectual damage.”

Here is a bill for an Irish wake charged against the estate of a
deceased depositor:—

Bought of —— Grocer, &c.

                6 gallons of whisky         £5    8    0
                12 bottles cordial           0    3    0
                ½ lb. tobacco                0    2    0
                ½ lb. tea                    0    1    6
                Drinks                       0    0    8
                                            ——   ——   ——
                                            £5   15    2
                                          ==== ==== ====

Nobody can complain of the last charge being excessive, but we are
curious to know to what use if not for drinking purposes the other
liquids were put.

A man of advanced years applied in the Inquiry Office of the Department
for an annuity, and he was asked to produce some evidence of his age in
the shape of a certificate of birth or of baptism. He said he had no
certificate of birth in his possession, but it might be possible for him
to obtain a certificate of his baptism. The official told him this would
meet the case, and the man departed. At the end of a fortnight the old
man returned with a certificate of his baptism; he had complied with the
instructions, although the certificate showed that the ceremony had only
taken place the preceding day. When the poor man realised that this did
not remove the difficulty he was most unhappy: he said he had had great
difficulty in obtaining the certificate, and certainly the commercial
value he attached to the rite seemed to justify the clergyman's
reluctance to baptize this man “of riper years.”

The same unconsciousness of the importance of a religious ceremony is
often observed in the case of people who consider themselves married
though they have no certificate.

Many of the old Trustee Savings Banks have during the last twenty years
transferred their funds to the Post Office, and when any particular bank
is closing its doors officials from the Post Office Savings Bank attend
to advise depositors who consent to their moneys being handed over. Here
is a true conversation which took place when the Whitechapel Savings
Bank was closing. There entered the bank a working man and a working
woman.

_Working Man._ Mornin', sir; what I came to see yer abaht is just this
'ere. If I puts my little bit in the Post Horfice 'ow abaht 'er
(_pointing to the lady_) when I dies? Will there be any trouble abaht
payin' 'er? There ain't no kids.

_Clerk._ Of course you are married: in that case it would be all right.

_Working Man (doubtfully)._ Married! don't exactly understand, sir.

_Clerk._ Well, have you got any marriage lines?

_Working Man to Working Lady._ 'Ave, we, Sal?

_Working Lady (confidently)._ Na, not likely.

_Working Man._ Well, young man, it's like this 'ere; we've lived
together twenty year: she's my missus, I'm 'er 'usband, and I wants 'er
to 'ave my little bit when I goes aloft. Ain't that it, Sal?

_Working Lady (coyly)._ Yus.

_Clerk._ Well, did you go to church to be married?

_Working Lady._ Get out; not likely.

_Clerk._ Did you go to a Registry Office?

_Working Lady (indignantly)._ Not me.

_Clerk._ Well, you'll excuse me saying so, but you are not married.

_Working Man (puzzled)._ I dunno; yer see my missus and I 'ave been
twenty years together, and it's 'ard on 'er if she can't get this 'ere
brass. Can't say as it ever occurred to us to go to church or a Horfice.
What am I to do, young man?

_Clerk._ Why don't you get married?

_Working Lady._ 'Ow much does it cost?

_Clerk._ Oh, only a few shillings.

_Working Man._ Well, Sal, what do you think?

_Working Lady (tossing her head)._ Oh, if it won't do us no 'arm, I
'spose we'd better.

_Working Man._ It'll make the money right for you, Sal.

_Working Lady._ Well, come on: it's all them thievish lawyers—it's
another do to get money out of yer. The idea for the likes of us to go
to church. Oh my!

But a week or two afterwards the couple returned and produced their
marriage lines.

_Working Man._ Well, it's all right; we planked our money down, and
we're wery much oblig'd to you for the suggestion. Sal's been a good 'un
to me these 'ere twenty years, but it never occurred to us, or we'd 'a
done it before. It jest made us both laugh outright when the parson chap
harsks me if I'll 'ave 'er. It do seem ridic'lous, but the law is the
law, and we ain't none the worse. Much obliged for the suggestion. Will
you 'ave anythink, young man?

But the clerk with stern probity declined, and said magnificently, “I am
glad you have done the right thing: it is what you ought to have done
twenty years ago.” The man he had evidently converted to a partial
recognition of the value of Holy Matrimony, but he saw that the lady was
hopeless from the first. The Savings Bank is evidently a powerful
lieutenant to the Church in its insistence on the commercial benefits to
be derived from baptism and matrimony.

The lost book is often a fruitful source of curious explanations and
experiences. The moment when we start saving any money is of course one
for much personal satisfaction. In some cases it may even induce wild
exhilaration. A lady wrote to the Controller this delightful letter:
“Having joined your Bank I put my Bank Book in the fire. Will you please
see to it.” Another depositor writes: “My wife and me was having some
words and she broke the book in pieces.” And yet another in the same
vein: “Through a falling out with my wife she tore the Bank Book. I
enclose the Relics.” The husbands, however, do not always have it their
own way, and one wife writes as follows: “I had a quarrel with my
husband on the day I lost the book. He stole my book once before. He
denied the same as he does now.” We must admit that the evidence against
him is merely circumstantial. Another man takes a morbid view of the
characters of church-goers. “As I left it in church I do not expect ever
to get it back with some other matters.” People have often complained of
the want of privacy at our post offices when we desire to transact
confidential business there. But we do not all suffer from shyness or
modesty. A lady writes: “I was not aware that any leaves came out of my
book. I was travelling about so much that I sewed it up in my stayes,
and I never took it out except in the Post Office.”

An old lady informed the Department that she had lost her book, which
she said stood in her maiden name. When asked for her marriage
certificate, she said she was not married, and explained, “I used to
take very strong tea, which has made my memory bad.” Perhaps it was a
case of love's old dream.

Then the explanations which have to be furnished for differences of
handwriting are often very human and amusing. For instance: “I am
instructed by my Father to write and state the difference between his
handwritings may have been the cause of his rheumatics.” Those who saw
the handwriting were not surprised. Another writes: “The difference in
the riten is that I have been promoted.” He was clearly not examined in
orthography before his advancement. Another application for an
explanation of difference in handwriting was met in a rather cryptic
fashion. A medical certificate was forwarded: “This to certify that J.
S., residing at——, is suffering from an inflamed foot.”

I have given enough instances to show how closely the Savings Bank comes
into touch with the people. Indeed it is the most human, in its
relations, of all the departments of the General Post Office. It looks
more closely into the inner life of the man and woman: it possesses also
the people's secrets, which are safe in its keeping.

Efforts have often been made to compare the saving habits of the British
people with those of other countries, but little reliable guidance can
be obtained from the comparative statistics of the various Postal
Savings Banks. In some countries, there are more facilities for saving
money in private institutions and public concerns; in others there are
considerably less than in England. Still it is to be feared that the
younger generation, especially in our large towns, do not save to any
great extent. The temptations to spend are at every corner, and perhaps
the best recommendation of the Post Office Savings Bank, in the eyes of
the masses, is that withdrawals are easy. Many people would, however,
like to see the old idea of a Savings Bank more strongly emphasised, not
only by the people, but by the management. But this is a question of
policy with which we have no concern.

I ought to add that the example of Great Britain in establishing Post
Office Savings Banks has been followed in our colonies and in foreign
countries. Many countries have systems modelled largely on our own, and
in the case of several of our colonies, arrangements exist by means of
which accounts can be transferred from the Savings Bank of the mother
country to that of the colony.

Nor must I omit to mention the introduction of “Home Safes.” The
depositor places his small savings in the safe, the key of which is kept
at the post office. When the amount has reached a substantial sum it is
deposited in his Savings Bank account. This means increased
opportunities for saving to the depositor, and economy to the
Department.




                               CHAPTER XI
                             THE TELEGRAPH


The modern world is almost losing its capacity for astonishment. The
rapid advances of applied science, more particularly in the manipulation
of that force to which we have given the name of electricity, but the
origin and essence of which are unknown and wrapped in the deepest
mystery, almost took away the breaths of a previous generation, but they
leave us comparatively unmoved. We feel, perhaps, that we are only on
the eve of still more astounding discoveries.

Applied telegraphy dates practically from the year 1835, when Messrs
Cooke and Wheatstone collaborated and presented to the world their
five-needle telegraph system, requiring five-line wires, and since then
rapid strides have been made, chiefly in connection with telegraphic
apparatus. The five-needle system soon gave place to the double needle,
an exceedingly useful instrument with two-line wires, and to the single
needle with one wire. Then followed at successive intervals the
Wheatstone A B C, Bright's Bell, Morse's Printer and Sounder (the most
generally adopted handworked system of to-day), the Wheatstone
Automatic, the Hughes Recorder, the Baudot, and other and more recent
systems of direct printing telegraphy, such as the Creed and the Murray
Multiplex. Finally wireless telegraphy was introduced, and its uses and
capacities are in process of development. At first the use of the
telegraph was almost entirely confined to railways, and it was not until
1846 that a private company was formed to undertake the business of
transmitting telegrams. Various other companies followed in succeeding
years, but considerable dissatisfaction was felt at the inequalities of
service and rates which prevailed. Small towns were neglected, and as
the telegraph lines followed the railways, many places were not served
at all. It was becoming more and more evident that a uniform system
under one administration was a public need.

In the year 1868 an Act was passed empowering her Majesty's
Postmaster-General to acquire, work, and maintain electric telegraphs,
and two years later the business and interests of the several telegraph
companies were taken over by the State. There can be no question that
this measure, which entailed a considerable monetary outlay at the
commencement, has been of immense value to the general public. The
purchase of the telegraphs by the State was a huge undertaking, but in
many respects it was mismanaged by Parliament as well as by officials.
For instance, the story of the cable to Scilly is a concrete example of
how the public were fleeced. All inland telegraphs in existence on a
given day were to be taken over on the terms and conditions laid down in
the Act of Parliament. Three joint-stock companies were immediately
formed—the Guernsey and Jersey, the Shetland, and Scilly Islands
Companies; and they went to work “hammer and tongs” to get their cables
laid before they could be stopped by the provisions of the Bill which
was then being carried through Parliament. It was touch and go with
these bastard companies, and the effort made to lay the Scilly cable is
very amusing reading. Owing to bad pilotage every inch of the cable was
expended before the operators got within five miles of the islands. Now
unless the cable could be laid and certified as being in working order
within a given number of days they would not be allowed to land at all.
The electrician in charge cut the cable a few fathoms from the ship and
steamed into Scilly towing the “fag end” behind. “It was a gala day with
the Scillonians.” It was the dawn of a new era to them. They kept high
festival, and the shore end was landed and hauled up over the cliffs by
willing hands. And then, wonderful to relate, with the two ends of the
cable lying several miles apart at the bottom of the Channel, the clever
electrician produced messages printed in plain characters on the Morse
slip, and on the faith of these signals the contractors issued their
certificate. The inventive genius of the electrician had saved the
situation. The Scilly cable was “in being,” and would have to be
reckoned with when the time came for purchase.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE WOODPECKER AND THE TELEGRAPH POST.]

      Several instances occurred some time ago of injury to
      telegraph poles in the neighbourhood of Shipston on Stour,
      caused by large holes being driven into and almost through
      them. The offender was discovered to be simply a woodpecker.
      The bird is thought to have imagined that the humming of the
      wires indicated insects.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The united cost of the transfer had been seriously under-estimated, and
the telegraph service has always been more or less burdened by the
expenditure incurred at the outset. The transfer, however, has been a
great boon to the nation, and has enabled the postal and telegraph
system of Great Britain and Ireland to become the largest and most
complete organisation for the transmission of messages in the world. The
immense increase in business would, however, have been impossible but
for the advances made since the transfer in telegraphic apparatus, and
in wire values, such as the introduction of the duplex, quadruplex, and
multiplex systems, which allow of a single wire being electrically split
up for the simultaneous transmission of a number of currents.

Previous to 1870 the number of telegraph offices in the United Kingdom
was approximately 3000, as against 13,520 at the present day. The total
number of messages dealt with in the time of the companies amounted to
between six and seven millions annually. At the present time upwards of
eighty-six million telegrams are dealt with annually.

The charges were high compared with the present time, as much as 7s. 6d.
being required for a twenty-word telegram to Liverpool in the fifties,
and later the average cost of a telegram to the public was 2s. 2d. per
message.

On the transfer of the telegraph to the State a uniform rate of 1s. was
introduced, and on the 1st October 1886 a further reduction to a minimum
charge of 6d. for twelve words was made. The average cost to the public
now is about 7¾d. per message. But the reduction to 6d., great as the
gain to the public has been, is not profitable to the Department, and
the revenue has suffered considerably. The transfer was also responsible
for a considerable reduction in the rates for the Press, 1s. being
charged for every 100 words transmitted between 6 P.M. and 9 A.M., and
1s. for every 75 words between 9 A.M. and 6 P.M., with 2d. for 100 or 75
words for each additional address.

In the days before the transfer, clerks in charge of telegraphic
stations were forbidden to forward telegrams for the Press unless they
were prepaid at the ordinary message rates, or unless they had received
written instructions from the Secretary of the Company to allow certain
messages to go at a different rate, or without prepayment. There was
uncertainty and inequality of treatment everywhere, and the Press has
perhaps gained more by the transfer than even the public. Foreign rates
were also very high compared with those in existence to-day.

In the time of the companies a free delivery of a telegram extended only
to a distance of half a mile. For distances beyond and within a mile a
porterage fee of 6d. was charged, with 6d. for every additional mile,
with increased rates for express delivery.

At the present time telegrams are delivered free within three miles of
the office nearest the address, which is called the Terminal Office, and
when that office is a Head Post Office, no charge is made for delivery
within the town postal area, even if that extends for more than three
miles. No charge is therefore made for delivery within the whole of the
London postal area, which extends as far as Southgate, Woodford, Lee,
South Norwood, Wimbledon, Hanwell, and Wheatstone.

Before the transfer, important towns such as Bournemouth, Dundee,
Exeter, Inverness, Limerick, Scarborough, or Wolverhampton did not work
directly to London, and as a consequence communication had to be gained
by a number of re-transmissions and transferences over the various
companies' lines. Serious delay often ensued. Now, however, the Central
Telegraph Office in London, which is more particularly a transmitting
centre, has direct communication with every town of importance in the
United Kingdom, and with every telegraph office in the metropolis. The
direct communication between provincial towns has also greatly
increased. Even now, when there are breakdowns, the transmitting of
messages sometimes exhibits curious results in re-transmission. Mr.
Baines remembers messages being sent during a breakdown from London to
Carlisle through Sligo thus: London to Dublin _via_ Haverfordwest and
Waterford, Dublin to Sligo, Sligo to Belfast, Belfast to Glasgow, and
Glasgow to Carlisle. There is also a legend in the Central Telegraph
Office that the wires to the North being stopped on one occasion, an
urgent message from London to Newcastle was forwarded by way of Hamburg.
Another story is of a special correspondent who, being unable to gain
admittance into a newspaper office in Fleet Street, went to the Central
Telegraph Office, and telegraphed to the Irish end of the special
telegraph wire worked from the newspaper office to Ireland, requesting
the Irish clerk to tell the Fleet Street clerk to come down and open the
door.

Direct communication has also been considerably extended to continental
towns. In 1889 the Post Office took over the working of the Submarine
Company's cables, and direct communication is now established with a
large number of foreign towns. At the present time there are some sixty
wires with an aggregate of ninety-five available channels to the
Continent. Five additional wires (six channels) are worked from
Liverpool to towns in Belgium, France, and Germany, two wires are leased
to the Anglo-American Telegraph Company for working to Belgium and
Holland, and two to the Indo-European Telegraph Company for transmission
of their traffic to South Russia, India, and countries beyond, _via_
Germany. The remainder are worked from the cable room of the Central
Telegraph Office in London to Austria, Hungary, Belgium, France,
Germany, Holland, Italy and Switzerland.

The Hughes simplex and duplex apparatus is chiefly used for cable
working. Some of the Hughes duplex circuits not infrequently deal with
150 telegrams hourly, and even this number has been exceeded. A Baudot
circuit working four “arms” has at times of pressure disposed of from
250 to 300 telegrams in an hour. The annual daily traffic in telegrams
to and from the Continent about the year 1870 was between 4000 and 5000:
at the present time it is from 24,000 to 26,000 telegrams. In addition
to this, some 3500 telegrams are daily handed over to the cable
companies, with whose offices in London there are connecting pneumatic
tubes.

Now to deal successfully with the vast amount of telegraph traffic which
passes throughout the United Kingdom and to and from the Continent it is
of course essential that there should be one large depôt to act as the
chief transmitting centre. This is naturally London, the capital of the
British Isles. The first Central Telegraph Station was established about
the year 1850 by the Electric Telegraph Company in Founder's Court,
Lothbury. In 1860 larger premises were built in Telegraph Street, just
off Moorgate Street, E.C., and at the time of the transfer, and up to
January 1874, this building remained the Central Office. The rapid
extension of business soon made a move necessary, and the staff and
wires were transferred in 1874 to the new building in St. Martin's le
Grand. It was thought that the spacious third floor in that building
would be more than sufficient for that purpose for many years, but at
the present time almost every portion of the big building is devoted to
telegraphs.

The large central hall facing the main entrance to the building is set
apart for the circulation of telegrams received from the various branch
offices connected with the Central Office by pneumatic tube, and in the
reverse directions for delivery from these offices. A large staff of
telegraphists is engaged upon this work. The pneumatic tubes used for
forwarding and receiving telegrams to and from certain branch offices in
the city, western central, and western district offices, and so
obviating telegraphic transmissions, are led into this hall. These tubes
are laid at the depth of about two feet underground. They extend as far
distant as Billingsgate on the eastern side, House of Commons and West
Strand on the south-western side, and the western district office on the
western side, and allow of the rapid collection and distribution of
telegrams over a very busy area. The tubes make the various offices arms
practically of the Central Station so far as telegrams are concerned.
The message forms are enclosed in gutta-percha carriers covered with
felt, and having attached to their forward ends a number of felt discs
which exactly fit the internal circumference of the tubes and prevent
any escape of air around them. An elastic band at the mouth of the
carrier prevents the messages from escaping. The outgoing carriers
containing the messages are propelled through the tubes from the Central
Office by forcing compressed air into the tubes behind them at a
pressure of about 10 lbs. to the square inch, the incoming carriers
being drawn through by vacuum, so that the normal atmosphere exerts
behind them a pressure of about 7 lbs. to the square inch.

All the tubes are worked on the block system, and by an electrical
contrivance the traffic is regulated. In long-distance tubes delay would
arise if it were only possible for one carrier to be in the tube at one
time, and to meet this intermediate automatic signallers are inserted at
various distances in the tube, so that as soon as a carrier passes one
section, it automatically notifies the sending section, enabling a
second carrier to be inserted. Thus several carriers equidistant from
each other may be passing through the one tube at the same time. The
power by which these tubes are worked is derived from large compound
pneumatic pumping engines fitted in the basement, but eventually the
power station which has recently been established at Blackfriars will
supply the power required. There are at present thirty-seven pneumatic
tubes connecting the various branch offices with the Central Office, in
addition to seven which connect the offices of the various cable
companies with the cable room.

Adjoining the central hall are the phonogram and the tube switch rooms.
The former is set apart for telephone telegram business, and by its
means telephone subscribers may speak direct into the head telegraph
office. In this way they can dictate telegrams by telephone for
subsequent transmission by telegraph. Telegrams are also sent in the
opposite direction to certain subscribers who desire to receive their
telegrams by telephone instead of by hand delivery from the nearest
delivery office. The telephone circuits connecting the Post Office
Savings Bank at West Kensington with St. Martin's le Grand, and used in
connection with Savings Bank withdrawal telegrams, are also situated in
this room.

In the tube switch room are placed circuits which enable telegrams
received by pneumatic tube from the various branch offices to be
signalled to officers in the Metropolitan District through the medium of
the inter-communication switch which I shall mention later on. It also
allows for the reception of telegrams originating at offices of the
Metropolitan District intended for delivery from those offices connected
to the Central Telegraph Office by tube.

The counter and delivery rooms are also on this floor.

The first floor, with the exception of one large room used as the
telegraph school of instruction, is mainly occupied with the offices of
the engineer-in-chief and his staff and the chief medical officer and
his staff.

The second floor provides for the telegraph administrative offices, the
cable room, and for wires working to provincial offices.

The third floor is devoted to the large central gallery and its wings,
and here are placed the greater number of the provincial circuits. In
addition the wires set apart for news working and for special events, to
grand stands at race-courses, &c., are located here.

The Metropolitan and Home District circuits are on the fourth floor.

Now in order to combine the various floors so as to form practically one
immense gallery, it is of course necessary that there should be a rapid
means of communication between them. This is provided for by an
extensive system of pneumatic house tubes, which makes it possible for
telegrams to be circulated from point to point in the various galleries.
For instance, it is assumed that a telegram is handed in at the
Fenchurch Street branch office for transmission to Birmingham. This
would in the first instance reach the tube hall on the ground floor by
pneumatic tube. It would then be placed on the sorting table and taken
to the tube connected with the central circulation table in the
provincial gallery on the third floor. On arrival there it would be
further sorted and taken to the section in which the Birmingham circuits
are placed, and take its turn with other messages awaiting transmission
to that town.

The area of each floor is so great that it is essential that the various
circulation tables at particular points thereon should be directly
connected by tube, thus allowing of the rapid transit of the traffic and
preventing the confusion which would attend carriage by hand from point
to point. In all sixty-eight house pneumatic tubes are worked throughout
the day. In addition, continuous aerial cord carriers worked by electric
motors are used for the conveyance of telegrams.

For the purposes of circulation, and for staffing and effective
supervision, the three floors or galleries are divided into sections or
divisions. For instance, the provincial galleries are composed of seven
divisions, named respectively A to G, and the various circuits are
grouped as geographically as possible in these divisions. The A Division
embraces such south-easterly and south-westerly towns as Dover,
Folkestone, Brighton, Bournemouth, Basingstoke, and Ventnor, and so on.
In addition to these divisions there are the News Division, the Special
Section, and the Intelligence Section. The former contains the news
circuits over which press work is disseminated throughout the Kingdom.
The apparatus in use for this class of traffic is the Wheatstone
Automatic, which in the course of years has been so improved that
whereas in 1870 it was only capable of transmitting some 80 or 100 words
per minute, it is now possible, given good wire conditions, to attain a
speed of 400 words per minute, although for working purposes it is not
usual to exceed an average speed of from 200 to 250. This system is
specially adapted for the transmission of general news, one batch of
which, on specially prepared slips, is often forwarded to many different
towns. A large proportion of this particular traffic is classified,
being news of general interest, and is handed to the Department by the
different news agencies, such as the Press Association, the Central
News, the Exchange Telegraph Company, &c., for dissemination to the
various subscribers in different towns.

Air pressure is largely employed in perforating with the requisite Morse
characters the slips by which the Wheatstone transmitters are fed, and
by this means a number of duplicate slips can be prepared at one
operation. Stick punching is also employed, but more recently other
systems have been introduced, such as the Creed and the Gell. These have
keyboards similar to that of a typewriter with increased signs, &c.; but
whereas, in using the ordinary hand perforator, each dot and dash of the
Morse characters require to be separately made by the operator, the
improved systems provide the required perforated Morse signals complete
for every letter of the alphabet on the slip or ribbon, as each letter
of the keyboard is depressed. The power employed is obtained by means of
electric motors.

In the Special Section are placed spare sets of apparatus, and when race
meetings, important political meetings, and other events of a special
nature, such as a football final, university boat race, &c., are being
held, the wires connecting the various towns and places of venue are
temporarily joined to these spare sets, and the work is thus specialised
and dealt with in this particular section. By this means it is promptly
and effectively handled.

Adjoining the Special Section is the Intelligence Section, and here all
the classified news work is dealt with.

It should perhaps be mentioned, that at many of the important race
meetings, and special events, what is called the YQ system is adopted at
the grand stand office, or telegraph office, in the town where the event
is taking place. For instance, at the Ascot races a YQ wire would be
fitted to several important towns, and those towns would be
simultaneously served with the news supply, thus obviating
re-transmission to London. A “special event” staff is withdrawn from
London and other of the more important provincial offices and drafted to
the place where the race or meeting is taking place. During such times
as they are withdrawn from headquarters the various officers receive
special _per diem_ allowances.

Mention has already been made of the increased wire values obtained by
the introduction of the duplex and quadruplex systems. Duplex and
quadruplex allow of two and four messages respectively being signalled
at the same time over one wire, one message in each direction in the
case of duplex and two each way in that of quadruplex. The “Baudot”
system, which in addition to being made use of for continental working
has been recently introduced for inland working between London and
Birmingham, allows of six telegrams being signalled simultaneously over
one wire. This system, like the Hughes, which is also now used for
inland working to Liverpool, Manchester, and Glasgow, ensures direct
printing and does away with the transcription of Morse characters. There
is little doubt that the use of the “Baudot” system will be extended
between London and the more important towns and to continental working.
The Wheatstone Automatic system has recently been arranged for
continuous working, and is now in operation between London and a number
of large towns.

Another system, the Creed, an adaptation of the Wheatstone transmitter
and typewriter, has been introduced. This is also a direct printing
apparatus, and does away with the hand transcription of Morse signals.

Long-distance telegraphy has been considerably improved by means of
repeaters placed at convenient intervals along the line, and these
automatically retransmit the signals.

Up to the year 1903 all the circuits in the Metropolitan District worked
directly into the Central Telegraph Office, and it was essential for a
telegram handed in, say, at Shepherd's Bush for delivery at Leytonstone
to be signalled to the Central Office, transcribed there, circulated to
the Leytonstone circuit, and transmitted from there. This necessitated a
number of handlings at the Central Office. On the 5th January 1903,
however, a system of through switching was inaugurated, and
re-transmission obviated, so that now all that has to be done is for the
office of origin to be switched through at the Central Office to the
delivery office, and the telegram from one office to the other is
signalled direct. The system of inter-communication has been very
successful, and has not only greatly facilitated the transmission of
this class of traffic, but has effected considerably economy in staff,
stationery, &c. Direct switching of Metropolitan offices on to working
sets in the provincial galleries has also been established. This enables
telegrams to be received therein for onward transmission to provincial
offices and _vice versâ_, so doing away with the greater portion of the
local tubing and circulation which was necessary when all Metropolitan
telegrams were received at the Central Telegraph Office on one floor
only.

Recently two concentrator switches have been established in the “H” and
“I” Divisions on the fourth floor, and the wires connecting a large
number of offices within a limited distance of London have been led
thereto. The arrangement is as follows. Assuming Hatfield has a telegram
with destination Leeds, the Central Office is called. This call is
indicated on the concentrator by a glow light, and the board operator
plugs the sending office through to one of the adjacent working sets of
apparatus, where the telegram is received, circulated to the Leeds
circuit, and transmitted. This system, by obviating separate apparatus
and staff for each circuit, has resulted in considerable economy.

On the closing of a large number of the less important wires at night,
and on Sundays, it is essential for reasons of economy that the circuits
then open should not extend over so large an area as at busy times. They
are therefore grouped together in small sections, the provincial offices
on the third, and the Metropolitan on the fourth floor.

The current by which the whole of the circuits are worked at the Central
Telegraph Office is generated at the Blackfriars Power Station, and
conveyed by mains to the basement of the building, where the
accumulators are charged, and the current distributed from these to the
circuits.

I have been obliged to give a large number of somewhat technical
details, and it would be almost impossible to describe the work of the
Central Telegraph Office in any other way. But enough has been said in
this chapter to bring out clearly the fact that in working the
telegraphs the servants of the General Post Office keep in touch with
the advance of science, and are not slow to avail themselves of every
discovery which will benefit and add to the efficiency of the Service.




                              CHAPTER XII
                      THE TELEGRAPH (_continued_)


A very important matter in connection with the Service is the timing of
telegrams, and in order to provide for their correct and uniform timing
throughout the United Kingdom, Greenwich mean time, which is received
from the Observatory hourly, is distributed from the Central Office at 9
and 10 A.M. daily. To enable this to be done, one circuit to every
office excepting certain principal towns is stopped just before 9 or 10
A.M. daily, and, as the gong sounds at these hours, the signal “nine” or
“ten” is transmitted to the offices in direct communication with the
Central Office, and these offices retransmit the signal to the smaller
offices connected with them by telegraph. The exceptions I have
mentioned are served by means of the chronefer. Two such instruments are
situated on the third floor provincial gallery, and daily transmit
automatically a current received directly from Greenwich Observatory,
one to the principal towns at 10 A.M., and the other to certain selected
towns at 1 P.M.

Magnetic clocks are now used throughout the galleries, and allow of
uniformity of timing.

Now let me deal with the practical working of the Service. The
introduction of the sixpenny minimum rate for inland telegrams in 1885
led to an immediate large increase, particularly in the social class of
telegrams. The average number dealt with during the month previous to
the reduced rate was 52,000. A month later, the total reached 70,000,
and these numbers have gone on increasing until at the present time the
daily number dealt with ranges between 120,000 and 165,000. On certain
occasions these totals are greatly exceeded. For instance, on the 25th
June 1902, the date when it was announced that the coronation of King
Edward was postponed, the record total of 314,116 was reached. These
totals represent ordinary telegrams, but in addition a considerable
quantity of news or press matter is dealt with, and frequently, on busy
parliamentary nights, as many as half a million words are dealt with.
For many years the news record for any one night was 1,050,000 words,
the occasion being the introduction of Mr. Gladstone's first Home Rule
Bill in 1886; but on the 5th December 1910, just before the General
Election, as many as 1,885,400 words were estimated to have been dealt
with. They were chiefly speeches delivered in various parts of the
country by parliamentary candidates. The total number of telegrams dealt
with at the Central Telegraph Office during the year 1910, including
continental and press messages, was upwards of 42,000,000.

A General Election, as may be imagined, throws an enormous quantity of
work upon the postal telegraphs and the Central Telegraph Office, the
chief transmitting and delivering office in particular. At the beginning
of the election campaign the leaders of each party address meetings in
various parts of the country, and as each speech for reporting purposes
varies from a half to several columns of a newspaper, the reception and
distribution to the London and provincial newspapers requires very
careful and extensive arrangements. A special staff, fast-speed
apparatus, and extra wires have very frequently to be provided for the
particular town in which each speech is delivered.

It sometimes happens that more than twenty speeches are delivered
throughout the country on the same night. On their receipt at the
Central Office they have to be transcribed for delivery to the various
London subscribers, and for transmission to the principal towns in the
United Kingdom for the newspapers. Sometimes it is found possible to
relieve the Central Office of some portion of the re-transmitted work by
utilising the YQ system, and distributing the traffic to the principal
centres in the Kingdom. During the first two weeks of the General
Election of December 1910, 15,210,600 words were dealt with at the
Central Office.

The reception and transmission of polling results require careful
treatment. The results are received by carefully skilled operators, and
immediately taken in hand for distribution to a large number of towns
for delivery to press agencies, subscribers, newspapers, clubs, &c. The
making up of direct wires to the polling towns when required, in order
that the result may be received in London in the shortest possible time,
involves care and forethought. As an example of the celerity with which
such messages are dealt with, the telegram conveying a result was handed
in at Listowel, in the West of Ireland, at 9.15 P.M., and delivered to
the press agents in London at 9.20 P.M.

Apart from the press work dealt with in the manner I have described,
arrangements have been made by certain provincial newspapers for the
leasing at a fixed rental of special or private wires from their London
offices direct into the editorial offices, over which a vast amount of
press matter is transmitted nightly.

Previous to 1885 the addresses of telegrams were signalled free. On the
introduction of the sixpenny rate with charge for each word in the
address, the public quickly recognised the advantage of registered
addresses. At the present time, in London alone there are no less than
31,000 registered telegraphic addresses.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde_
                     TELEGRAMS ON TELEPHONE WIRES.

      To save delay, while one subscriber is speaking on a line by
      telephone, the next call is being arranged by telegraphic
      communication over the same line, neither operation
      interfering with the other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The increase in the staff has of course been tremendous since the Post
Office took over the telegraphs. At the time of the transfer the force
consisted of 497 persons. At the present time the authorised staff is
4596 officers of all ranks, of whom 1214 are women.

The scales of pay for telegraphists in the Inland Section range from
16s. to 65s. per week for men, and from 14s. to 40s. for women. In the
cable room, the men obtain an additional allowance of 2s. 6d. a week for
knowledge of languages. An allowance of 3s. per week is granted to all
telegraphists at twenty-five years of age who obtain first-class
certificates in magnetism and electricity, and telegraphy or telephony,
and who pass a certain degree of manipulative skill. In the case,
however, of the cable room telegraphists the 2s. 6d. allowance is merged
in that of the 3s. allowance. While undergoing training in the telegraph
school, male learners receive 8s. and female learners 7s. a week. The
scales of pay for overseers and supervising officers are of course
higher. Salaries and wages absorb approximately half a million pounds
annually.

The Stock Exchange and Threadneedle Street branch offices, which for all
practical purposes are one and the same office, do a very considerable
amount of business direct from the floor of “the House,” and during
times of exceptional activity of the Stock markets between 3000 and 5000
telegrams are handed in from the Stock Exchange between 11 A.M. and noon
for onward delivery. The Threadneedle Street office is the busiest
branch in the City.

In dealing with the vast number of telegrams which pass between the
different offices in the United Kingdom it would, of course, not be
humanly possible for all to reach their destination without error.
Everything possible is done to reduce the risk of telegraphic errors and
failures, but where the condition of a wire is to some extent affected
by climatic conditions, it is obvious that errors and failures may
arise. On the whole, however, the percentage of errors to the number of
telegrams dealt with is extremely small. Bad writing is often a source
of error, and for this the senders are often to blame. To this cause
might be attributed such an error as “Reserve me two stalls,” being
rendered to the addressee as “Reserve me two stables.” But such an error
as “Send three dog pies” instead of “Send three doz. pies” might have
been caused either by bad writing, or by the failure of a dot in the
signals for the last letter of the word.

While such errors have their humorous side, there are some which are
distinctly tragic. For instance, the rendering of a message “Child dead”
for “Child bad” is due to the signals for “de” being run together or
inaccurately spaced.

Other sources of error are the incorrect transcribing of telegrams. For
instance, in Cornwall there is a parish named Helland. The vicar was
going to town, and hoped that his archdeacon could be induced to take
the duty. The negotiations were entrusted to a brother clergyman and all
went well. The latter despatched this telegram: “The Archdeacon of
Cornwall is going to Helland. You need not return.” The vicar received
with astonishment this message: “The Archdeacon of Cornwall is going to
Hell, and you need not return.”

There is probably still a vast amount of ignorance prevailing as to the
_modus operandi_ of the telegraph. The use of the poles was once
described as to hold up the wires and of the wires to hold up the poles.
A simple maiden once said to her mother, “How do the messages get past
the poles without being torn?” And the knowing mother replied, “They are
sent in a fluid state, my dear.”

An old woman presented herself at the telegraph office at Waterloo
Station and asked the clerk to write down a message to her son at
Portsmouth. When this was done, she said, pointing to an advertisement
in large type hanging in the office, “Would you mind sending it in print
like that, as my son cannot read very well.” I suppose many of us have
as children watched the telegraph wires to see if we could detect any
movement. The nursemaid of a telegraph official said to her mistress one
day, “I do not think they are very busy where master is employed,
because I have been standing on the railway bridge a long time without
seeing one message go by.” A young woman who was about to despatch a
telegram was heard to remark to her companion, “I must write this out
afresh, as I don't want Mrs. M—— to receive this untidy telegram.”

When telegraph business was recently introduced into a village in
Northamptonshire, most of the inhabitants spent a good portion of their
time in watching the newly-erected wires. At length one old lady who had
been especially diligent in her vigilance, was overheard remarking:
“Wal, that's a rum un. I can hear them eer wires a hummin, but I ain't
seen one of them eer yaller envelopes come up yet.”

The limitation of twelve words for sixpence is often a severe lesson in
brevity and compression. A happy lover was once cast into the deepest
despair on receiving this telegram: “Come as soon as you can; I am
dying—Kate.” He went, found Kate alive and well, and she explained she
had wanted to say she was dying to see him, but her twelve words had
been exhausted: she thought he would understand.

To give another instance of a telegraphic error, a pleasure party
telegraphed to some friends that they had arrived “all right,” but the
message was delivered as “all tight.” And yet another story. A merchant
away from home, learning of the illness of his wife, telegraphed to his
family doctor for particulars. He received the following reply: “No
danger; your wife has had a child. If we can keep her from having
another to-night she will do well.” Of course the letter “d” in child
had been substituted for “l.” The lady was suffering from a chill.

Many of the questions asked of the Secretary of the General Post Office
in respect to the telegraph are not from _bona-fide_ seekers after
postal information, but are sometimes evidently from those who are
engaged in newspaper competitions. For instance, the Secretary was
thought the right and proper person to answer this question: “How long
was the cable news being transmitted from England to America with the
news of Iroquois winning the English Derby 1881?” But the Department
provides special telegraphic facilities at race meetings, and the man
may have thought that the Secretary was _ex officio_ a racing man.

Another man wrote: “Sir, please would you kindly inform me what is the
length of the highest telegraph pole under the General Post Office.” The
inquirer was found to be a foreman who had had a dispute on the subject
with a number of his gang.

Telegraphy has held undisputed sway for a number of years, but latterly
the telephone has entered largely into competition, and there can be
little doubt that telephoning is and will become its very dangerous
rival. While some considerable time may elapse before the effect of the
trunk line telephony will make itself felt in competition with
telegraphy to provincial offices because of its somewhat high rates, it
is possible that as these rates are reduced it will show its effects
upon telegraphy. With regard to local telegrams, telephony has
undoubtedly already brought about a diminution in the number dealt with
by its vigorous competition, and unquestionably local telegraphy will
have to look to its laurels now that the Government has taken over the
National Telephone Company's system. At present, however, there is room
for both services, and with the efforts which are continually being made
to accelerate the telegraph service it is more than probable that both
telegraphs and telephones, each serving the public in its own particular
sphere, will together thrive and flourish for a long time yet.

Another company has recently sprung into existence and into competition
with telephone telegraphy. This is the National Telewriter Company,
which under licence by the Postmaster-General has rented junction lines
enabling its subscribers to send telegrams from their offices direct
into the Central Office for transmission onward, and also to receive
them in the opposite direction, thus obviating the counter and hand
delivery stages. This is on identical lines with the direct telephoning
of telegrams, but whereas these are orally communicated, the telewriter
instrument enables a facsimile reproduction of the sender's handwriting
to be received. With this in use the joke in the young lady's remark
about the untidiness of her telegram loses its point. The untidiness is
reproduced. The company has at present six metallic currents with the
Central Office, and in addition three wires are rented exclusively by
private firms through the company, worked with telewriter apparatus.

Not many years ago the statement that before long it might be possible
to transmit and receive telegrams to and from ships at sea would have
been received with incredulity. Wireless telegraphy, which is defined to
mean any system of communication by telegraph without the aid of any
wire connecting the points from and at which the messages are sent and
received, has, however, made this possible, and to-day communication may
be had through the General Post Office with ships passing round the
coast by means of the Radio-Telegraphic service. Such telegrams can be
accepted at any telegraph office for transmission to ships equipped with
wireless apparatus through a number of coast stations in the United
Kingdom and also through coast stations abroad. The charge for a “radio”
sent through a British coast station is, with certain exceptions, 10½d.
a word. Radio-telegrams can also be sent to certain ships through the
long-distance stations of the Marconi Company at Clifden and Poldhui.
This company retains its licence for its long-distance stations at these
places, which are primarily intended for communication with America.

The number of radio-telegrams dealt with during the year ending 31st
March 1910, at stations now in the hands of the Post Office, was in the
outward direction to ships 3266, and inward from ships 27,727.

In addition to wireless communication with ships, there is also
electrical communication with lighthouses, lightvessels, &c., round the
coast, and shipping casualties at sea can now be reported to owners of
ships from certain lighthouses and lightvessels.

Formerly all land lines were aerial, but more recently, in order to
obviate the risk of interruption of wires by storms, it was decided to
lay underground cables, and considerable progress has already been made
in this direction. The underground backbone system extends from London
to the north _via_ Birmingham, Warrington, Carlisle to Glasgow, thence
to Edinburgh, and westward from London to Bristol, Exeter, Plymouth, and
Penzance. From Warrington the system has been extended to Liverpool on
the one side, and Manchester, Bradford, and Leeds on the other. Another
section of underground cable has been laid between Newcastle and
Stockton, and this will in course of time be extended to link up Leeds
and Sheffield with the main system. It is possible that in the not very
distant future the telegraph pole will go the way of the windmill and
the tollgate, and be regarded by our children as a clumsy device of a
comparatively dark age.

What is the future of communication by electricity? Who can tell? Let me
quote some words of Sir William Preece, who as Engineer-in-Chief of the
General Post Office for many years, was responsible for many advances in
telegraphy which I have described. “One cannot help speculating as to
what may occur through planetary space. Strange mysterious sounds are
heard on all long telephone lines when the earth is used as a return,
especially in the calm stillness of night. Earth currents are found in
telegraph circuits, and the Aurora Borealis lights up our northern sky
when the sun's atmosphere is disturbed by spots. The sun's surface must
at such times be violently disturbed by electrical storms, and if
oscillations are set up and radiated through space in sympathy with
those required to affect telephones, it is not a wild dream to say that
we may hear on this earth a thunderstorm in the sun. If any of the
planets be populated with beings like ourselves, having the gift of
language and the knowledge to adapt the great forces of Nature to their
wants, then, if they could oscillate immense stores of electrical energy
to and fro in telegraphic order, it would be possible for us to hold
commune by telephone with the people of Mars.” If this condition of
things does come to pass, I am quite sure that the General Post Office
will be equal to the situation: they will add another floor to the
building in St. Martin's le Grand to deal with the new business, and
will issue regulations both for our guidance and that of the good people
of Mars.




                              CHAPTER XIII
                             THE TELEPHONE


If there was one thing more than another which must have seemed to our
forefathers essential to conversation it was the presence of two or more
individuals within what we call speaking distance of one another. Even
in the cases where men have believed themselves to be in communication
with the unseen world, the spirit with whom they held intercourse has
been with them or near them. The one thing of which they could never
have dreamed was, that in London you could talk rationally to a friend
in Paris on the price of Consols or the state of the weather.

Yet the idea of the telephone is older than many of us think. Robert
Hooke in 1667 described how by the aid of a tightly drawn wire bent in
many angles, he propagated sound to a very considerable distance.
Wheatstone in 1821 actually invented an instrument which he called a
telephone, and in a criticism of this a journal made the remarkable
prophecy: “And if music be capable of being thus conducted, perhaps
words of speech may be susceptible of the same means of propagation.” A
still more significant prophecy was made by Charles Bousseul, a
Frenchman, who said: “It is certain that in a more or less distant
future speech will be transmitted by electricity. I have made
experiments in this direction: they are delicate, and demand time and
patience, but the approximations obtained promise a favourable result.”
Experiments went on, the musical telephone was advanced considerably in
effectiveness, but it was not until 1876, when Graham Bell patented his
invention in the United States, that the speaking telephone was actually
born.

It is a curious fact that Graham Bell's father, Alexander Melville Bell,
was a teacher of elocution in Edinburgh; he was the author of numerous
text-books on the art of speaking correctly. He was also the author of
an ingenious sign language which he called “Visible Speech.” Every
letter in the alphabet of this language represented a certain action of
the lips and tongue, and a new method was provided for those who wished
to learn a foreign language or to speak their own language correctly.
The son became, like his father, a teacher of elocution, learned in the
art of voice production. He came to London, met among others Sir Charles
Wheatstone, and was fired with ambition to follow in that great man's
footsteps. He went to America, devoted himself to scientific study, fell
in love, neglected his professional duties, and his future father-in-law
refused his consent to the marriage unless he abandoned his “foolish
telephone.” Bell was not perhaps in the eyes of many of the fair sex an
ideal lover, for he worked on and on until the great day of the 10th
March 1876, when “the apparatus actually talked.” He was too poor to pay
for his own railway ticket to the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia
to show off his instrument. It attracted at first but little attention
until, such is the veneration for crowned heads in a republican country,
it received notice from a royal visitor. Dom Pedro, the Emperor of
Brazil, took up the receiver, and Bell went to the transmitter. In a few
moments Dom Pedro exclaimed, with a look of utter amazement, “My God! it
talks.” This is what everybody repeated who made the same experiment; it
is what many are still saying to-day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde._
                        THE TELEPHONE DETECTIVE.

      The observation table at the great telephone exchange at the
      General Post Office. An observer is sitting with a split
      second stop watch in front of him. He records the exact time
      taken by operators to establish connection between
      subscribers, together with their treatment of subscribers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the meeting of the British Association in the same year, Sir William
Thomson gave his experiences at the Philadelphia Exhibition. “In the
Canadian Department I heard 'To be or not to be ... there's the rub'
through an electric wire: but scorning monosyllables, the electric
articulation rose to higher flights, and gave me passages taken at
random from the New York newspapers. 'S.S. Cox has arrived' (I failed to
make out the S.S. Cox). 'The City of New York,' 'Senator Morton,' 'the
Senate has resolved to print a thousand extra copies.' 'The Americans in
London have resolved to celebrate the coming 4th of July.' All this my
own ears heard spoken to me with unmistakable distinctness by the then
circular disc-armature of just such another little electro-magnet as I
hold in my hand.”

Mr. William Preece, who was in after years knighted, and who was at the
time Divisional Engineer to the General Post Office, exhibited at this
same meeting Bell's telephone, which he had brought from the United
States, and Graham Bell himself gave further illustrations.

Mr. Preece was at that time watching the progress of the telephone with
a keen eye for the interests of the Post Office, but so also were
business men who saw a profitable opening for private enterprise. To put
the matter briefly, the instrument was at once captured by private
speculators and exploited for all it was worth and a good deal more
besides. The Telephone Company, Limited, was formed in 1878 to acquire
Bell's patent, and in 1879 the Edison Telephone Company of London was
formed. By this time it was being generally discussed whether these
people were not poaching on the manor of the Postmaster-General. That
official asked Parliament to insert a clause in a Telegraph Bill which
was under discussion declaring that “the term 'telegraph' included any
apparatus for transmitting messages or other communications with the aid
of electricity, magnetism, or any like agency.” But Parliament has
usually a very tender heart for the private speculator, and refused to
agree to this proposal. It is a habit with many ill-informed people to
blame the officials of the Post Office for not collaring the telephone
from the first, but if there were any blame attached to them it must be
shared by Parliament. There was possibly in official circles a little
jealousy of this new rival to the telegraph: it must be remembered that
State telegraphs were yet in their infancy, and officials were still at
work organising the new system all over the country at great expense to
the State. We have seen in a previous chapter that just at the time when
the mail coach service had been magnificently organised, and vast sums
of money had been spent on improving the roads, the steam engine upset
all the calculations of the postal officials. Something of the same kind
seemed to be likely to happen in the case of the telephone and
telegraph. It is easy to be wise after the event, but the telegraph was
still a new toy in the hands of the postal officials, and their
strongest efforts were being directed to improve this branch of the
service.

But if the Post Office was not over enthusiastic in its welcome of the
new medium it was at any rate keen in the assertion of its own rights.
When the Edison Company announced its intention to start telephone
business in London the Postmaster-General at once instituted proceedings
against the company for infringement of his monopoly rights under the
Telegraph Act of 1869. This was a test action, and Mr. Justice Stephen,
who was the judge, decided that the telephone was in the meaning of the
Act a telegraph, and that telephone exchange business could not legally
be carried out except by the Postmaster-General or with his consent. The
decision covered also future inventions in regard to “every organised
system of communication by means of wires according to any preconcerted
system of signals.” This, it has been said, was the psychological moment
when the Government might then and there have taken advantage of its
position and have incorporated the telephone with the telegraph system.
But Great Britain acts cautiously in these matters, and as I have said
she has an intense respect for private enterprise. It is only when
competition between rival companies obviously fails to meet the wants of
the public that she consents to allow her Government to step in and do
the work itself. It was characteristic of our nation that divided
counsels should so long have been allowed to continue over the telephone
business; it was characteristic of our officials also, that they were
not prepared to launch out into any fresh expenditure of public money
with the purchase of the telegraphs still weighing heavily on their
consciences.

Public opinion would not have allowed the Post Office to act the dog in
the manger over the business, even if it desired to do so, and it
proceeded to grant licences to the telephone companies to work within
certain areas. In 1883 the Post Office did in fact propose to engage in
active competition with the companies, but the Treasury opposed the
policy on the ground that the State should at most be ready to
supplement and not to supersede private enterprise.

The various telephone companies united in 1889 under the name of the
National Telephone Company, but their work was carried on under many
restrictions. They were not allowed to lay wires underground, and for a
long time they were not permitted to establish trunk lines. The Post
Office was perhaps still inspired too much with the idea that it was a
profit-making institution, and it was making a fight for the telegraph,
with which the telephone was now in serious competition. Another
opportunity for the Post Office to step in and buy out the companies
happened in 1890, but it was not taken. But in 1892 the Post Office
compelled the company to sell their trunk lines to the Government,
leaving the local exchanges in the hands of the company. So things went
on until 1898, when a Select Committee was appointed by Parliament to
consider whether the telephone service is calculated to become of such
general benefit as to justify its being undertaken by municipal and
other local authorities, and if so, under what conditions. The decision
of the Committee was that so long as the telephone service was not
likely to become of general benefit the present practical monopoly in
the hands of a private company should continue. The telephone, we see,
was still considered only a luxury for the few, and although certain
foreign countries were making great strides in the direction of a
general use of the system, Parliament was not yet prepared to sacrifice
the private speculator. The committee, however, recommended competition
by the Post Office and local authorities, and in pursuance of this
policy the Post Office in 1899 decided to establish a telephone system
in London in competition with the company.

Thus began the first direct connection of the Post Office with the
working of the telephone. But there is always something unsatisfactory
and not in accord with the fitness of things when the State enters into
competition with any of its members in business undertakings, and this
attempt was certainly not advantageous to anybody. In 1901 the Post
Office came to an agreement with the company in regard to the London
business. The company agreed to free intercommunication between its
subscribers and those of the Post Office, and undertook to charge rates
identical with those fixed by the Department. The long struggle of the
company to obtain permission to lay underground wires was settled by the
Post Office agreeing to provide these wires for the company at a rental.
Finally the Post Office undertook to buy out the National Telephone
Company in the year 1911.

Briefly stated, this is the story of how the Post Office came to
possess, as was already the case with the telegraph, the working of the
telephone. Even now there are persons who are of opinion that although
there should be one single authority to work the telephone, this should
not be the Post Office. Let me submit a few considerations why I think
the right policy has been adopted. The telephone has undoubtedly become
a formidable competitor to the telegraph, and it is desirable, with a
view to the economical adjustment of facilities, that both systems
should be under one direction. In this case the one service becomes the
natural complement to the other, and one or the other can be developed
or reduced as circumstances demand. Moreover, there are hundreds of
miles of underground pipes all over the country laid at an expense of a
million and a half, and a single cable may contain from 100 to 200 wires
used indiscriminately for telegraph and telephone services. Many
thousands of miles of route are furnished with poles used for both
services.

Then there is the familiar illustration of the post office existing in
every village and town. What other authority would think of touching the
unremunerative parts of the country, or would think it worth while to
take up the business which the Post Office now undertakes as a matter of
course? If the two services were separated all this plant and
accommodation would have to be duplicated (or dropped) for telephones.
All the work would have to be controlled by officials just as at
present, with this difference, that they would be entirely free from the
effects of popular criticism and control. Everybody claims the right to
attack a Department of the State, and if their grievances are not
attended to, the member of Parliament for their constituency can ask a
question in the House of Commons. The Postmaster-General is considered
fair game for attack by every telephone subscriber; far less
satisfaction would be got out of a dispute with an official not directly
responsible to Parliament.

A telephone subscriber, writing from the Junior Constitutional Club in
reply to a pressing request for payment of subscription, wrote: “Anyhow,
£5 is more easily paid than £8 at the present moment. I don't suppose
the P.M.G. is quite so short for a day or two as I am.”

And in a further letter he said: “It would be an act of grace on the
part of an exalted and powerful man like the P.M.G. to show clemency
under the cruel circumstances and forego his rights.”

There would be no satisfaction in writing such letters from your club to
the secretary of a company. To have the opportunity to be saucy to a
member of his Majesty's Government is only given to some people when
they make use of the Post Office.

Men point to the loss to the Post Office in working the telegraphs. “Is
this not a proof of the inefficiency of the permanent official?” But
certain things should be remembered before making such accusations. What
are the chief causes of the loss? Parliament insisted upon sixpenny
telegrams, and they are certainly not remunerative; no private company
would touch them at that price, except perhaps to certain towns and
districts where the business would pay its way. The Post Office
telegraphs everywhere at that price. Parliament also insisted upon cheap
Press telegrams, which are a loss to the Post Office, though a great
gain to the public. And as a contributory cause to the loss must be
mentioned the telephone itself, which has to a certain extent destroyed
the most remunerative portion of telegraph work, the transmission of
short messages. Nearly every village has its telegraph. Numbers of
offices are kept open all night. The railway companies have an immense
free service over the whole Post Office system. But the man whose
telephone service has for the moment gone wrong forgets all this, and in
his indignation he attacks the whole system.

The United States is practically the only country of any importance in
which the telephone system is not owned and worked by the State. The
General Manager of the Post Office Telephone Service, who paid an
official visit to the United States in 1910, in answer to an inquiry as
to whether the service in New York is as good as it is usually
represented to be, stated frankly that “the service given in New York
City, where the telephone problems are similar to those that confront us
in London, is unquestionably superior to ours. But,” he added, “I
believe that we are rapidly catching up, and I feel sure that at no
distant date it will be commonly acknowledged that the service in London
is equivalent to that of New York.”

As regards the trunk lines and long-distance business in the United
States, there are often complaints of high charges and other
inconveniences, but the telephone service is developed there much more
extensively than in Great Britain. The Americans suffer more than we do
from cyclones and storms and interruptions to their telephone system.
Everything is on a magnificent scale, even the weather. My readers may
remember the story of the Scot who was explaining to an American what
severe winters they experienced in his native country. “Why, it is
nothing at all to the cold we have in the States,” said the American. “I
recollect one winter when a sheep jumping from a hillock to a field;
became suddenly frozen on the way, and stuck in the air like a mass of
ice.” “But,” said the solemn Scot, whose first consideration is always
love of the naked fact, “the law of gravity would not allow that.” “I
know that,” was the ready answer, “but the law of gravity was frozen
too.” No wonder, with such possibilities, the American long-distance
telephone service occasionally breaks down.

Technical terms are difficult to understand in this country, but America
often helps us out of difficulties by her picturesque language. For
instance, a “snooper in” is a person who listens to other people's
conversations on the telephone. And “the trouble man” is an excellent
name for the individual who investigates faults on a wire.

It is the long-distance calls which appeal most strongly to our sense of
the marvellous. Owing to our insular position the extension of the range
of telephonic speech has always been a difficult engineering problem, as
the insertion of a length of submarine or underground cable in a
telephone circuit has a “choking” effect, and materially limits the
distance over which speech is possible. In order to minimise this
difficulty, which affects Great Britain so adversely, a cable treated
with loading coils was laid in 1909 between Abbot's Cliff, Dover, and
Cape Grisnez on the French coast. It is the resistance capacity and
induction of a circuit which decides whether a long-distance
conversation will be satisfactory or not, and the insertion of “loading
coils” in a cable artificially increases the induction, thus increasing
the volume and improving the quality of speech received at the end of a
circuit in such a cable.

There are sometimes difficulties in the maintenance of a cable in a busy
waterway like the English Channel, as it is no uncommon occurrence for
vessels to foul cables with their anchors, and sometimes even in lifting
the anchor the cable is heaved to the surface.

Everybody asks the question, “How far can I speak on the telephone?” In
this country at least that will ultimately depend on the way the
difficulties of the submarine cable are surmounted. You can talk in
England to Paris and Brussels and many provincial towns in France and
Belgium. The new cable has enabled telephonic communication to be made
between Paris and Glasgow: Manchester can speak to Paris, Nottingham to
Lyons, and Ipswich to Bordeaux. The engineers of the Post Office talk of
the possibility of a conversation between London and Astrachan.

The scene at a large telephone exchange is very curious and striking.
_The Daily Chronicle_ some time ago gave a very vivid description of
what meets the eye and ear when you enter the room. “A low, confused
murmur falls pleasantly on the ear, with a dim suggestiveness of
activity in being. It is like the hubbub of a far-off multitude or an
echo of Babel heard through the electrophone. It is the negation of
noise, and yet it bespeaks energy and meaning. Around the room many
girls are seated with their faces to the wall. On their heads a bright
metal band is fastened, and against the hair of the brunettes it gleams
like a barbaric ornament. With the intuition of womanhood these young
ladies must be aware that this implement of their toil becomes them, for
they carry it with a certain grace and coquetry. But they have no eyes
for the intruder. All the time they are intent on something else,
listening constantly to the voices of the unseen. All London is speaking
to them—nay, all England. Though the voices are those of strangers, they
respond readily and reply promptly to the words they hear. They are the
intermediaries of communication, and they bring together millions who
are miles apart. Heaven knows how much purposeless chatter they
encourage, yet they also make possible the most momentous conversations,
fraught with grave consequences to individuals and communities. Yet all
the while they are calm and unmoved, speaking in a voice that is ever
soft, gentle, and low—'an excellent thing in woman'—and they deftly
handle  cards and push plugs into thousands of small holes in
the framework before them. A few soft-footed superintendents walk up and
down the room, but there is no sound to conflict with the murmurous
harmony of subdued speech.”

There are as many jokes about the use of strong words on the telephone
as there are about golf and bad language. The telephone is always a
trial to the impatient person. “Is there a doddering idiot on this
telephone?” shouted an irascible old gentleman down the transmitter.
“Not at this end,” came the ready reply of the young lady at the
exchange.

The ordinary rules which govern the art of conversation in polite
circles do not fit in with the telephonic talk. When the conversation is
to be abruptly broken off in three minutes it is something like
endeavouring to pour out your soul on a sixpenny telegram.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

              _Photo_                       _Clark & Hyde_
               THREE MINUTES’ CONVERSATION BY TELEPHONE.

      The calculagraph is a clock which registers the exact time
      occupied by each conversation. The operator depresses the
      handle on one side when the conversation begins, and
      depresses the other when the conversation is finished.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The Daily Mail_ once published an article entitled “Learning Languages
by Telephone,” which laid the newspaper open to _Punch's_ obvious retort
that “telephone girls, we understand, have learnt quite a lot of
language that way.”

An employer and his office boy were having a conversation over the
telephone, in the course of which the employer found it necessary to
remonstrate with his employé and to express somewhat forcibly his
opinion of the latter's actions or behaviour. At the conclusion of his
master's remarks the boy inquired: “Are you done? Are you quite sure you
are done? Well, all them names you called me you is.”

The possibilities of the Post Office Telephone Service when fully
developed are enormous. In the United States, for instance, there are
to-day more telephones in use by farmers than the whole number in use by
commercial and all other classes in the United Kingdom. And these
telephones are found to add to the profits and comfort of the farmers to
an extent which makes the cost of the telephone seem negligible.

The British Post Office, following the American example, has arranged
that if a sufficient number of subscribers living on or near a country
road leading to a town where there is a telephone exchange will agree to
use one line, they can telephone as much as they please to people on
that exchange for the moderate charge of £3 a year.

A British farmer can speak from his farm to all the country round. The
telephone saves him inconvenient and expensive journeys to neighbouring
towns, while he and his family can talk to their friends and neighbours
and can arrange social functions.

The proverbial dulness of the country-side may be relieved considerably
by the development of the telephone system, and curious results may
eventually be seen in our national habits in the future. With a talking
instrument installed at every post office and perhaps every house, the
whole nation may gradually accustom itself to social intercourse over
the wires. The Scotsman may lose some of his reserve, and the Englishman
much of his class feeling. On the other hand, the Irishman will find
increased opportunities for his natural eloquence.

Shall we require in such circumstances to visit one another so
frequently? Will railway receipts fall off? Will the taxi-cab wait in
vain for a call? There is one certain thing the popularising of the
telephone will effect—it will test the sincerity of our friend who
protests that he is anxious to see us, and to be in our company. If this
sentiment, as is often the case, arises merely out of a desire to hear
himself talk, the man may simply use the telephone. We, too, have an
advantage: we can cut him off.




                              CHAPTER XIV
                    ENGINEERS, STORES AND FACTORIES


                         (_a_) _The Engineers_

In writing of the activities of the General Post Office, it is difficult
to know where to stop, or in that slaughter of the innocents which must
always take place when space is not available, to decide who is to be
spared. We certainly cannot leave out the Post Office engineer. He often
works unseen and unappreciated by the general public, but he has this
consolation, that he is indispensable, and in the Post Office of the
future he may become the most important man in the service. Sometimes,
perhaps, our eye may have been arrested, when passing along a street, by
the spectacle of a man apparently attempting acrobatic feats on the top
of a telegraph pole, and he will often attract the same curious
attention from a London crowd as a fallen horse or a motor car in
difficulties. He is probably an employé of the Post Office, and belongs
to the Engineer's Department.

For several centuries the Post Office was simply a carrier of letters,
and it is difficult to realise that a larger portion of its effective
work depends at the present day on the skill of the engineer. Since 1870
a sum of over £100,000,000 has been expended in the purchase,
maintenance, and extension of telegraph and telephone business, and the
expenditure on telephone maintenance alone up to the end of 1908
amounted to nearly £8,000,000.

The engineers have during recent years provided a large mileage of
underground wires, connecting London with Edinburgh, with the west of
England, the Midlands and the south-eastern counties. The need for the
engineer's work in the postal service is felt more and more every day.
All round our coasts he is erecting and maintaining stations for
wireless telegraphy, and if the aeroplane becomes the carrier eventually
of our letters, the engineer will be the chief official in the postal as
well as the telegraph work of the Post Office. Even now there is an
increasing demand for mechanical appliances in postal work. There are
the conveyors and stamping machines used in sorting office work, and new
developments in this direction are probable in the future.

The Engineer-in-Chief's staff numbers about 300, but the Department
controls a vast army of men, totalling 10,000, engaged in the manual
labour connected with telegraph and telephone business. The importance
of the Department is scarcely yet recognised even by the Administration
of the General Post Office, which is, naturally, still disposed to run
the business on non-mechanical lines, and possibly more importance is
attached to old-established branches of the service. But the day of the
engineer is arriving, and he will enter into his own before many years
are over. Some day, perhaps, the Chief Engineer will be _ex-officio_ the
Chief Secretary. And when calculating machines become universal, he may
easily become the Accountant-General also.

A mere layman, unversed in electrical science and technical terms, finds
it extremely difficult to understand, except in the broadest outlines,
the engineering work of the Post Office. The technicalities of the
telegraph and the telephone are very difficult to explain, without the
use of scientific terms. We sympathise with the lady who was being told
by a member of the Ordnance Survey how marvellously accurate were the
results achieved by his Department. He spoke with enthusiasm, and told
her how they started with a measured base several miles in length on
Salisbury Plain, how they triangulated over the whole of England and
Scotland, and finally had a similar base in Ireland. They then compared
the actual length of that base with the length it should have had
according to their calculations, and in a most impressive manner the
Ordnance Survey man informed his companion that there was found a
difference between them of nine inches.

The lady had listened with intentness, and with that appearance of
understanding which is assumed so much more convincingly by a woman than
by a man. “And did they have to do it all over again?” was the question
she put to the engineering enthusiast!

If we are conducted through the instrument rooms of the General Post
Office, we want to ask heaps of questions, probably, but we are like
folk who have learnt enough of a foreign language to ask a question but
not enough to understand the answer.

An engineer's work is not, however, wholly technical. In planning and
organising telegraph or telephone routes many varied duties fall to his
lot. What is called “wayleave getting” has in the past provided him with
abundance of opportunities to show his skill in diplomacy. This
particular work is the obtaining permission from owners of property and
local authorities for telegraph lines and poles to be erected. When a
member of the British public thinks the Government require something
from him he may feel flattered, but he certainly hardens his heart and
makes an effort to take advantage of the needs of the State. I will give
an instance of the sort of reception an engineer experiences when he is
wayleave getting. A jobbing carpenter and coffin maker was approached
with the idea of permitting a telegraph pole to be erected in his back
garden. He did not particularly object to the pole, but he put up his
back immediately when hearing of the sum offered by the Post Office. The
engineer was eloquent about the matter being for the public good, but
the man was inexorable. It was pointed out to him further that the
Department paid a guinea for each of its poles, and that to give what
the man demanded would be ruinous, especially as the telegraph branch
was making no profit. The man replied, “Then all I can say is you look
damned well on a concern as don't pay.”

Another man did not particularly care to have the pole, but eventually
consented. He said, however, that it would not be worth his while to
collect the shilling which would be due to him. He was told he need not
trouble to collect it himself, as the postman would bring it round. It
was the Christmas season, and the man's indignation was aroused at the
apparent slimness of the Post Office. “Ah, I see; I take with one hand
and give it back with the other, to the postman for his Christmas box.”

An engineer, seeing a man who appeared to be the proprietor of an
estate, where some trees were interfering with the wires, asked
permission of him to trim the branches. “No objection at all, my dear
fellow; trim away as much as you like.” This the officer did until the
real proprietor came out and wanted to shoot the engineer. The other
man, who was a stranger to the neighbourhood, in the meantime escaped.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde_
                      UNDERGROUND TELEPHONE WIRES.

      Underneath the streets of London are miles and miles of
      telephone wires. This is a section of the lines running
      beneath the Kingsway, and the operators are at work
      repairing the wires.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some people give way handsomely when they find there is no chance of
standing out successfully. Under the Telegraph Construction Act (1908)
the Department has certain powers of compulsion. Representations were
made to a lady but she took no heed of them, and a notice was served on
her by the Solicitor of the Department. She replied: “With reference to
your communication respecting the erection of telegraph poles, &c., I am
afraid I have not taken much interest in the matter, and I thought it
was all finished long ago. The absurd fuss that was made some time ago
seemed to cause my husband much amusement, and as he is letter
scribbling, and has nothing else to do or think about, I handed the
affair over to him to see to, as I did not think it of any importance.
As far as I am concerned you can put 40,000 poles or anything else you
like up down or all over the road: it is a matter of absolute
indifference to me.”

The laying of underground wires is, however, developing fast, but it
is usually cheaper to keep the wires overhead, and in the present
state of electrical science the effectiveness of a telephone wire is
reduced when laid underground. In the Postmaster-General's Report for
1906 he deplored the differences into which he was forced with
landowners, and “with those valuable associations whose care it is to
preserve the natural beauty of the country. In the case of Hindhead I
am glad to say that, thanks to the consideration shown by the
Directors of the London and South-Western Railway, I was able to take
the poles by another route.” It is pleasant to find consideration for
the beauty of the country influencing the policy of the Post Office.
The Postmaster-General went on to say that “means of overcoming the
present difficulties are urgently required; for it is most
unsatisfactory that important towns should go for years with
inadequate trunk telephone facilities because it has not been possible
to overcome some difficulty of wayleave many miles away.” This was
written before the Telegraph Construction Act of 1908 was passed, but
even with increased powers the Department experiences great opposition
from local authorities and others to the erection of overhead wires,
and the wayleave getter's task is still difficult in many districts.

Another of the works carried out by the Engineer's Department is the
establishment of a system of synchronisation of clocks by means of
ingenious automatic appliances, and in this matter the Post Office has
given a lead to the nation. At no distant date, if the example of the
Post Office is followed, we may be spared the experience which
frequently occurs in a London street, of finding a difference of time in
almost every clock we pass. The Post Office clocks are like Wordsworth's
cloud, they move together if they move at all.


                      (_b_) _Stores and Factories_

The Stores Department is another branch of the service which does not
come under the direct notice of the public. But it is as necessary to
the Post Office as the stoker is to the railway train. Stop the supplies
and every post office in the country will feel the effect very quickly.
Nothing is too small or insignificant to be supplied by the Stores. If a
department wants a packet of pins it applies to the Stores: if it
requires a safe or a telegraph pole the Stores will supply the article.
If an official requires a uniform the Stores will fit him as well as a
West End tailor. The business done is colossal; the figures of the
Stores Department are in some respects the most interesting in the Post
Office. They would move to envy firms like Selfridge's or Harrod's. For
instance, in one year 1,250,000 pens were supplied to the
Postmaster-General, and yet, as Mr. Sydney Buxton complained
pathetically when mentioning this fact publicly, his handwriting was no
better. During the year 1909 more than £1,300,000 of goods were
purchased by the Post Office, and £800,000 of this represented the cost
of engineering stores.

Everything that is required in connection with postal and telegraph work
is examined and tested before delivery. No fewer than 1,035,720 separate
consignments of stores, weighing 6223 tons, are despatched from the
Studd Street depôt annually. About 100,000 persons in the United Kingdom
are supplied with uniform, and the total number of garments issued
annually is about 420,000. The annual value of all this clothing amounts
to about £210,000. As a rule everybody is allowed two suits, one for
summer and one for winter wear, and they are made according to standard
sizes. The method adopted is called the Fitting Sizes Scheme, and I
shall refer to it in more detail in my chapter on the Postman.

The Department always holds large stocks of cloths, linings, tapes,
braids, and buttons, and it issues them from time to time to its
tailoring contractors. Think of a supply of three or four million
buttons! The percentage of misfits is two.

Mail bags, parcel post receptacles, official bicycles, and telegraph
instruments are supplied in large quantities. Over 11,000 bicycles,
carriers, and trailers are in use throughout the Kingdom, and the
mileage covered by them amounts to 150 million miles per year.

Miscellaneous postal stores, such as stamps, seals, scales, weights,
telegraph paper, string, sealing-wax, are purchased by the Stores for
the Post Office. Printed matter, pens, ink, paper, and office
requisites, though stocked and distributed by the Stores, are supplied
by the Stationery Office, Whitehall. Household stores, that is materials
for cleansing and cooking purposes, are supplied to the Post Office by
the Board of Works. The Stores supply the General Post Office with red
tape to the extent of 1,000,000 yards annually. The amount will not come
as a surprise to many people, who may perhaps be inclined to say that
the exports of red tape by the Post Office even exceeds the big import.
Needless to say, the Stores only supply the article in its material
form: they are content to allow the administrative branches to
manufacture the other kind. Pencils are supplied to the tune of
1,000,000, and pens I have already mentioned. Again the critic may step
in and say that if the average post office pen were renewed as often as
it ought to be the order from the Stores would be still larger than it
is. The stationery supplies are of course stupendous. Here are a few
figures covering one year: 2200 gallons of gum, 4800 gallons of writing
ink, 11,000 boxes of paper-fasteners, 4800 quires of blotting-paper. And
you can get sealing wax in three qualities, and in hundredweights. But
if I continue in this strain I shall turn the heads of my readers.

Closely allied to the Stores are the factories. Speaking broadly, the
Post Office does not make the goods which it requires; it gets them for
the most part from other firms: the goods are brought into the factories
to be examined and tested, and the Stores distributes them throughout
the Kingdom. A certain amount of manufacture does, however, take place
at the factories. A quantity of telegraphic apparatus is made here: the
supply and upkeep of thousands of miles of telegraphs and telephone
lines has to be provided for. In one place you will find a machine, the
work of which consists in installing wires into cables: in another you
will find a machine doing exactly the opposite kind of work, pulling
cables to pieces that have had their day; the wires are untwisted, and
the gutta-percha is stripped off. The insulators for the telegraph poles
all come into the factory, and the arms on which they are to be fixed
for the support of the wires are made here. They are of British oak or
Australian karri-wood. All kind of fittings for postal and telegraph
work, including silence cabinets for the telephone business, are
constructed in the factory.

Repairs form a large part of the work. Here are awaiting repair, straps,
postmen's bags and pouches, and the great bull hides—envelopes as they
are called—in which the mail bags are wrapped to be dropped by the
Travelling Post Office. Many of these are continually being brought into
the factories to be repaired, rent and split up all to pieces,
indicating the violence of the action which often takes place during the
exchange of the bags.

Leather is used very much in postal appliances, and a large staff is
employed making and repairing articles. Powerful sewing-machines are
employed for the purpose. One curious industry is the making of the
little felt and leather carriers which are used for the transmitting
written telegrams and other papers through the pneumatic tubes. These
are made by women. There are, as I have already pointed out, miles of
these pneumatic tubes under the streets of London.

Here is a paint shop, also a smith's shop with steam blast and hammer.
Basket-mending is very much in evidence. The Post Office uses thousands
of baskets, many of which used to be made in prisons. The bulk, however,
come from contractors, but the mending is done here.

When the articles have been tested the Stores undertake the delivery
throughout the country.

One of the burning questions of the Post Office is the supply of
telegraph poles. In the Post Office Circular of the 8th December 1908,
the Postmaster-General invited his staff throughout the country to
acquaint him of any promising sources of home-supplied timber. There was
a time when the needs of the British Post Office were met solely from
Norway. From the Norwegian forests came the poles which supported the
overhead telegraphs of the United Kingdom. But at the present time there
is a shrinkage in the supply from that quarter. The Post Office requires
40,000 poles per annum. Sweden has supplied us, and now Russia with her
interminable and primeval forests sends us the poles. There are virgin
forests in Russia in the White Sea Hinterland, but these are very dense,
and it is sometimes very difficult to get out of them anything longer
than 40 feet. The timbers used for telegraph “arms” are, however,
imported from Australia.

An interesting fact about the supply of telegraph stores is that a
General Election decided on at short notice involves an immediate order
for 2600 instruments with accessory stores. The additional telegraph
forms required reach high figures.

Arrangements are made to meet emergency requisitions due to telegraphic
breakdowns, naval or military manœuvres, &c., and officers are
frequently called from their home at night to despatch by the first
means at their disposal the necessary instruments.

The returned stores form a large item of the business. Instruments get
out of date as well as out of repair. These are examined by an officer,
who decides whether they shall be sold complete, or broken up and sold
as brass, ebonite, &c. It pays to break up instruments, if, for example,
they contain platinum, but on the other hand, for instruments such as
bells, switches, &c., there is a limited demand, and these are sold in
small lots by auction. It is a matter of some difficulty to determine,
and it has frequently to be decided by experiment, what instruments can
be broken up, and as the demand is very limited, how many complete
instruments can be released from stock without affecting the price.

Storeboys do most of the breaking up of instruments, and useful parts
are retained for stock. Nobody can be relied on to break up anything
with more of the joy of life than a boy. Lead-covered cable is stripped
in the factories for sale as copper and lead, and gutta-percha for sale
as copper wire and gutta-percha strippings. Superintending Engineers
throughout the country are allowed to sell locally certain stores such
as old iron, iron wire, and poles, but other valuable stores are sent to
London for disposal.

There are two or three general tender sales of old stores in the year,
and special sales of copper and lead are arranged whenever the
accumulations or the state of the market require it. But the scrap-heap
of the Post Office is of the dimensions of a mountain.

There are also returned postal stores, which come under the name of
condemned material. These are sold for what they will fetch. In one year
the Department obtained £1800 for clothing and rags, £850 for string,
and £700 for boots. Accumulations of used string are disposed of also
locally by certain postmasters. Here is indeed an example in domestic
economy.

The Stores supply in response to requisitions a quantity of postal
stores to the Colonies and British post offices abroad. There are
British post offices at Ascension, Beyrout, Constantinople, Panama,
Salonica, Smyrna, and Tangier.

I must not omit to mention the Awards Committee of the Post Office,
which exists to encourage workmen and other Post Office servants to
bring forward suggestions for improvements in machinery, tools,
apparatus, &c., and lists of the awards are published from time to time
in the Post Office Circular. The Postmaster-General, in a recent report,
stated that “since the operations of the Committee began, the Post
Office workmen have displayed greater interest in their work.”

There is a systematic inspection of the conditions of employment under
Post Office contractors. The amended Fair Wages Resolution passed by the
House of Commons on the 10th March 1909 is now inserted in all contracts
for Post Office stores, and firms desiring to be added to the official
lists of contractors are required to give an undertaking that they will
conform strictly to the conditions of this Resolution. A clause is also
introduced into head-dress and clothing contracts prescribing minimum
wages for women and girl workers.

The labour conditions of the Post Office in other respects are sometimes
not so satisfactory. A Superintending Engineer recently sent in a claim
for a double extra allowance for certain of his men who had performed
seventy-six hours' extra duty each in a week, and he explained that one
of the men had worked for eighteen of these hours “under somewhat
discouraging conditions, being head downwards in a manhole.” Many of us
would prefer to take the risk of balancing ourselves on the top of a
telegraph pole.

The work of the Stores Department is, it will be seen, of a singularly
responsible character. Dealing as it does with contractors in a very
large way, it requires in its officers not only judgment and experience
but the highest commercial probity as well. Dealing also with large
numbers of workmen, it has opportunities of earning for the State a
reputation for fair treatment, and for setting an example to private
firms. No doubt the popular view would be that the Stores only supply
telegraph poles, sealing-wax, and things of that sort, and any salesman
in Oxford Street could do the work. The Stores Department suffers from
its name: the man in the street connects it in his mind with the Civil
Service Stores, and he knows what goes on in those premises. But if he
were to visit the offices of the Department, he would find the
difference rather striking, and he would for ever afterwards have a
wondering respect for “the man from the Stores” who buys and sells
articles by the million, and who will probably ask you for the loan of a
pencil or a stick of sealing-wax, as his personal supply of these
articles has run short.


                               CHAPTER XV
                              OCEAN MAILS


The change which has taken place in the carriage of oversea mails during
the last hundred years is as great as the revolution which happened in
the case of the inland postal service. And in both instances, of course,
it was the discovery of the steam engine which accounted for the change.
In both instances, also, it meant the closing of a period during which
romance and adventure were the usual accompaniments of service in the
Post Office. The sailing vessel, beautiful to look at and with her
capacity to carry his Majesty's mails speedily and punctually depending
largely on a fair wind and freedom from capture by his Majesty's
enemies, is a more inspiring subject for the writer than the crossing of
the Atlantic within five days of the _Mauretania_ in spite of wind and
weather. Neither poetry nor art has found much inspiration in mere
speed. It is only a prosaic ideal of the modern Post Office.

In a previous chapter I have stated that the Dover Road is probably the
oldest mail route in the kingdom. The reason is obvious, because it was
the road by which the foreign mails travelled. The correspondence
between the Court and foreign governments was of no small account in the
time of the Tudors and Stuarts, and “ocean mails” in those days were
probably considered of greater importance than inland posts. But all the
mails except those to Ireland went eastward. “Stepping Westward” in
those days was to be an adventurer or discoverer. The Atlantic was not
yet a ferry: it was the Great Unknown. Dover, Ramsgate, Harwich, and
Yarmouth shared in the duty of providing packets for the mails. During
every French war Dover was useless as a packet station, and the
correspondence then went by Harwich or Yarmouth. It was partly owing to
the necessity for obtaining a port of departure less liable to the
dangers from foreign enemies that in 1688 Falmouth, an extreme westerly
port, was selected for the headquarters of the Post Office Packet
Service. Gradually this port became the most important station of the
service, and it not only served Southern Europe but the United States
and America. The story of this service has been admirably told by Mr. A.
H. Norway, and it is not my purpose here to do anything more than
summarise briefly the life of the old days. It is a tale of stirring
adventures and sea fights. In times of war and sometimes even of peace
there was constant risk of seizure, and every packet was armed to meet
emergencies of this kind. The instructions to the captains of these
vessels were to run while they could, to fight when they could no longer
run, and to throw the mails overboard when fighting was no longer
possible. Within these instructions there was abundant scope for
exciting voyages. These were great days for Falmouth, and her position
as a mail port gave her an advantage over the rest of the Kingdom. She
knew of wars and revolutions before even London could be in possession
of the facts.

The packets brought also bullion in large quantities, and on reaching
Falmouth the treasure was despatched by road to London in vehicles which
were known as Russell's Wagons. A walking pace of about three miles an
hour was kept up throughout the long journey, but there were many people
to whom the high coach fares were prohibitive, and who were ready to
travel by these wagons, sleeping by night beneath the tilt. The drivers
were armed, and when treasure was on board a guard of soldiers marched
with the wagons. It was a tedious but picturesque way of travelling to
London, and in the old days, when the roads were bad, and exposed to
attacks from highwaymen, there was perhaps very little enjoyment to be
obtained out of the journey. Still these wagons continued, not to run
but “to stroll,” long after the introduction of railways, and Mr. Norway
tells us that it is only fifty years since they “might have been met
toiling at their leisurely pace along the western road.”

Mr. Norway quotes from a letter written by a Spanish traveller who
visited England in 1808. What he says will help us to realise how much
the Packet Service meant to Falmouth. Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella was
the traveller, and he had just arrived by the packet at Falmouth when he
wrote the letter. This is what he says: “The perpetual stir and bustle
in this inn is as surprising as it is wearisome. Doors opening and
shutting, bells ringing, voices calling to the waiter from every
quarter, while he cries 'Coming' to one room and hurries away to
another. Everybody is in a hurry here: either they are going off in the
packets and are hastening their preparations to embark, or they have
just arrived and are impatient to be on the road homeward. Every now and
then a carriage rattles up to the door with a rapidity which makes the
very house shake. The man who cleans the boots is running in one
direction, the barber with his powder-bag in another. Here goes the
barber's boy with his hot water and razors: there comes the clean linen
from the washerwoman, and the hall is full of porters and sailors
bringing up luggage or bearing it away. Now you hear a horn blow because
the post is coming in, and in the middle of the night you are awakened
by another because it is going out. Nothing is done in England without a
noise, and yet noise is the only thing they forget in the bill.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: HOW TREASURE WAS BROUGHT TO LONDON ABOUT THE
BEGINNING OF LAST CENTURY.]

       LEAVING THE OFFICES. KILLIGREW STREET EVERY MONDAY AT NOON
         AND ARRIVING AT THE CASTLE AND FALCON INN, ALDERSGATE
                                STREET,
              LONDON, ON THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY, JUN 1833.

      Bullion in large quantities was often landed at Falmouth by
      the mail packets for despatch by land to London. It was
      placed on wagons, which journeyed the whole distance to
      London at a walking pace guarded by soldiers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

This extract is extremely interesting, not only for the picture which it
gives us of Falmouth a hundred years ago, but because it bears out the
experience of most travellers from the Continent at the present day. The
more leisurely ways of Spain in particular are as sharply contrasted at
the present time with those of England as they evidently were in 1808.

There was considerable progress made in the building of sailing ships
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. A ship performing the
Packet Service in 1693 was described as one of “eighty-five tons and
fourteen guns, with powder and shot and firearms, and all other
munitions of war.” The sailors were not extravagantly paid for their
services, but there were many recognised and unrecognised ways of
improving their income. One of the recognised ways was the permission to
take prizes if such fell in their way. There are in existence curious
records showing also that the sailors received donations and pensions
for wounds obtained in action. With that passion for precision and
organisation which has always characterised the Post Office, a financial
value was attached to almost every part of the human body. “Each arm or
leg amputated above the elbow or knee is £8 per annum; below the knee is
20 nobles. Loss of the sight of one eye is £4, of the pupil of the eye
£5; of the sight of both eyes £12, of the pupils of both eyes £14; and
according to these rules we consider also how much the hurt affects the
body, and make the allowances accordingly.” And we find that Edward
James had a donation of £5 because a musket shot had grazed on the tibia
of his left leg, and Thomas Williams had £12 because a Granada shell had
stuck fast in his left foot. Such were some of the inducements and
special increments offered to men to join the Post Office Packet
Service.

With the peace which followed Waterloo the fighting times of the Packet
Service came to an end, and in a few years the introduction of steam
navigation began a completely new order of things. The Post Office gave
up her packets, Falmouth was given up as a mail station, and the era of
mail contracts began; and if we measure distance by time instead of
mileage, the shrinkage of the world became more marked year by year. It
is interesting to trace this in the story of what is now called the
Atlantic Ferry. The first vessel to cross the Atlantic by steam was the
_Savannah_ in 1819, but she was partly under sail, and she took
thirty-five days to make the passage. The _Royal William_ crossed under
steam in 1831; but she took forty days over the voyage. Up to that date,
therefore, steam power was scarcely a rival to the sailing vessel.
Indeed there were cases in which sailing vessels had crossed the
Atlantic under favourable conditions in less than fourteen days. In
1838, however, a great advance was made. First the _Sirius_ and then the
_Great Western_ in that year made record passages, the one in eighteen
and a half days, the other in thirteen and a half days. The latter
vessel made passages for several years, and her average per voyage was
fifteen days and a half.

Then in 1840 came the contract with the Cunard Company to carry the
mails for the British Government, and the history of that company has
been a continuous breaking of records and of improvement in services.
The names of the huge vessels belonging to this company which have
successively lowered the Atlantic record are familiar to most of us, and
they belong in a special way to the story of the Post Office. There was
the _Britannia_ in 1840, which began with a voyage of fourteen days, and
the _China_ in 1862 and the _Batavia_ in 1870 reduced this record
considerably. Then followed in 1881 the _Servia_, the first of the
modern type of vessel; in 1884 the _Umbria_ and _Etruria_ with speeds of
19 knots an hour; in 1893 the _Campania_ and _Lucania_ with 22 knots;
and in 1895 the _Lusitania_ and _Mauretania_ with 25 knots. The record
has now been reduced to considerably under five days. The present
contract is for a weekly service to the United States _via_ Liverpool
and New York. The British Post Office only pays its contractors for the
weight of mails actually carried, and reserves the right to send
specially addressed letters by foreign ships: most famous among these
are the vessels of the Hamburg-American line, which have at different
times held the Atlantic record.

The White Star line has also since 1877 been regularly employed by
contract to carry the mails between Liverpool and New York, and the
_Teutonic_ and the _Majestic_, completed in 1889 and 1890, were the
first merchant ships constructed with a view to their use as auxiliaries
to the British navy.

The idea of the Travelling Post Office is especially suited to overseas
mails, and on these liners sea post offices are established, where the
mails are sorted in transit and made ready for delivery at the
completion of the voyage. The sorters are at work during the whole of
the voyage; as many as 250 bags are often opened, and the number in an
exceptional mail has often reached 700. The sorters are required to wear
uniform, and are regarded as officers subject to the discipline of the
ship, but they take their meals in the first class saloon. They have two
or three days in New York before the return voyage: it is a popular
branch of the service, and there is considerable eagerness to join it,
in spite of the fact that the Transatlantic mails are sometimes
extraordinarily heavy.

I can only deal with the chief steamship companies which contract with
the British Government for the carriage of the mails. And chief among
these is the Peninsular and Oriental Steamship Company, which, during
almost the whole of its career, has acted as the agent of the Government
in the conveyance of mails to the East. Until 1835 all our mails for
India were carried round the Cape of Good Hope, and the approximate time
occupied was four months. In that year a change was made, and the mail
was sent _via_ Egypt. The first contract with the P. & O. Company dates
from 1837, and this was an arrangement for a monthly service between
Falmouth and Vigo, Oporto, Lisbon, and Gibraltar. The company obtained a
charter of incorporation in 1840, and one of the conditions was that
steam communication with India should be established within two years.
This condition was fulfilled, and the _Hindustan_ was despatched to
India, _via_ the Cape of Good Hope, on the 26th September 1842. But the
advantages of the route across the Isthmus of Suez, even before the
opening of the Canal, were sufficiently obvious to the directors of the
company, and they practically organised what came to be known as the
Overland Route. But the man who first established a service along this
route was an officer of the East India Company named Lieutenant Waghorn.
He deserves honourable mention in any account of the service to India.
He believed in this route, and worked hard to make it practicable in
face of innumerable obstacles. He was a man of indomitable energy and of
extraordinary stature. There is a story told of his visit to a country
fair with a friend. He endeavoured to enter one of the shows and was
refused admission twice. The friend sought an interview with the
proprietor. The only reply was, “I pray you, sir, take that gentleman
away. The fact is he is two inches taller than my giant.”

Waghorn lived long enough to see the Peninsular and Oriental Company
establish a regular service across the isthmus. This meant an
uncomfortable passage by canal boat and steamer to Cairo, then by a
two-wheeled omnibus for ninety miles across the desert of Suez. For many
years camels carried the mails from Cairo to Suez, where the P. & O.
steamers again resumed charge. The first mail service to Australia _via_
the Isthmus of Suez was opened in 1852. In 1859 a railway was made
across the isthmus, and this considerably simplified the journey. Then
in 1869 the Suez Canal was opened, but owing to difficulties raised by
the British Government it was not until many years after that the mails
were permitted to pass through the Canal. Since 1888 the direct sea mail
service between England and India, China, and the Australian colonies
has been continuous.

The mails leaving London on Friday nights are despatched from Brindisi
in specially designed twin screw vessels, which arrive at Port Said
about ninety-six hours after the mails have been despatched from London.
On this service the _Osiris_ and _Iris_ are employed, and there is the
curious fact concerning them that they are the only vessels in the
mercantile marine which cross the sea with mails and passengers only. At
Port Said the mails are transferred to the big liner which has come from
London _via_ the Straits of Gibraltar. The service is weekly to Bombay,
to Shanghai and Australia fortnightly, but since 1888 a contract with
the Orient Company for a fortnightly service to Australia has given that
colony a weekly mail.

The Union Castle Line to Madeira and the Cape provides the mail service
to South Africa, and ships like the _Edinburgh Castle_ and the _Balmoral
Castle_, which sail from Southampton, make very swift passages.

But the catalogue is a long one of oversea contracts, and besides there
is little variety in the nature of the service. There is an interesting
table in the Post Office Guide showing the approximate time taken in the
transmission of correspondence from London to certain places abroad.
According to this list the longest journey for a letter now figures as
44 days, and that is to the Fiji Islands _via_ Suez, but if you send it
by Vancouver the journey is reduced to 30 days. The longest journey
without an alternative route is to Hobart, 34 days, but Brisbane and
Manila run it very close, 33 and 32 days respectively. Bombay is under
15 days and Cape Town is 17 days. We are practically within a month's
touch on paper of the whole civilised world. We have travelled far since
the 25th of December 1815, when Charles Lamb wrote to his friend Thomas
Manning, who was in China: “Dear old friend and absentee, this is
Christmas Day, 1815, with us: what it may be with you I don't know—the
12th of June next year, perhaps.” Lamb's idea was that in writing to a
friend it was the day of the receipt of the letter that was the thing to
be concerned about, and how difficult it was to be with your friend in
imagination six months hence. When your friend was reading your words
“all your opinions will be out of date, your jokes obsolete, your puns
rejected with fastidiousness as wit of the last age.” But thirty days is
a different matter, and even our friends in New Zealand or the Fiji
Islands seem only in the next street compared with similar conditions a
hundred years ago.

At home we grumble at the Post Office, and are irritated at the delay of
a single post, but if we are living abroad, or have friends and
relations in distant countries, the very word “mail” has a sweet sound
in our ear. If we spoke in rhythm, as people sometimes do when labouring
under strong emotion, we should say of the Post Office in a foreign land
or when parted from our friends, “How beautiful upon the mountains are
the feet of him that bringeth good tidings.” “The feet” may be a twin
screw steamship, but the sight is none the less beautiful.

But besides the big foreign services there are a very large number of
contracts for conveying mails in British waters. Indeed, to examine the
list is to understand in the fullest meaning the term British Isles.
When we use the term we think of Great Britain and Ireland, and we
perhaps concede the Isle of Man and the Isle of Wight to the group. But
there are also the Scilly Islands, the Channel Islands, the Western
Isles of Scotland including Skye and the Hebrides, the Arran Islands in
Ireland, and the Orkney and Shetland Islands off the coast of Scotland.

Chief in the Home Packet Service is perhaps the mail service between
Holyhead and Kingstown. In the old days Milford and Holyhead were both
stations for the Irish mails, but Holyhead has always held the premier
position, and now Fishguard has supplanted Milford. Here is a copy of an
old advertisement published in 1810 in a Dublin newspaper. It will show
how the service was performed in the days before steam navigation:—

“Notice is hereby given that the Postmasters-General are willing to
receive Proposals for a Contract, for a period not exceeding seven
years, for Two Stout Wherries of from forty-five to fifty tons burden
for the performance of His Majesty's Express Services between Dublin and
Holyhead.” This is one of the stormiest and most uncertain of channel
passages, and the express services occupied anything from seven to
twenty hours or longer in making the voyage. The _Ulster_, _Munster_,
_Leinster_, and _Connaught_, the fine vessels of the City of Dublin
Steamship Company, have a speed of 23 knots an hour, and keep excellent
time. The Isle of Man Steam Packet Company's vessel, _Ben-my-Chree_,
averages 24 knots at sea. There are fine services between Southampton
and Weymouth and the Channel Islands, and services slow but sure to the
western islands of Scotland and the distant Shetlands.

There is one British island at least which has no regular mail service,
but occasionally improvises a curious service of its own. St. Kilda is a
remote island lying off the west coast of Scotland about 50 miles from
the nearest land. The scenery is wild and rugged, sheer cliffs rising
from the sea in some parts to a height of 1250 feet, and covered by
myriads of sea birds. There are about sixteen cottages on the island and
eighty inhabitants. Two or three times a year during the summer a
tourist steamer calls there, but the island is cut off from the mainland
from August to May except for the occasional visit of an Aberdeen
trawler. The islanders, left to their own resources, endeavour to open
up communication with the mainland in this manner. They construct a
sheepskin buoy, and the letters are enclosed in a tin canister with
sufficient money to pay postage, and a wooden label is attached bearing
the inscription: “St. Kilda mail. Please open.” The mail can only be
launched with a hope of success in a gale of north-west wind, which
drives it across to the island of Lewis, a distance of 60 miles. In a
gale of this kind in 1905, the mail arrived on the shores of Lewis
within two days. In the mail boat was found money to defray the cost of
the postage. The dealer who sells in Glasgow and London the tweed woven
by the St. Kilda islanders received half-a-dozen letters. They were salt
with the lime of the sea, and in places scarcely legible. One of the
islanders wrote: “Very few of the trawlers have visited us this year
owing to the bad weather. I wish we could hear how you are all getting
on on the mainland, and especially how the Churches are progressing.”
The St. Kilda folk are keen theologians, and the struggle between the
“United” and the “Wee Free” Churches interested them keenly. They were
“Wee Frees” almost to a man.

[Illustration]

The mail boat does not always reach its destination. Three were sent off
on the same date, and two were never heard of again. The third was
picked up at Dunrossness, in Shetland, after having drifted for two
months and a day. But the letters, though sadly damaged by the sea, were
duly posted at Lerwick.

There is, of course, great excitement in St. Kilda when a tourist
steamer arrives. The resources of the little post office, which is only
a bare room with a table and desk, are severely strained. The inward
mail is never a heavy one, but the outgoing one on these occasions is
quite imposing. All the tourists bring on shore postcards and letters to
obtain the coveted St. Kilda postmark. The postmaster has a busy time,
and the post office is open for quite an hour, an unusual event in the
island.

There are still narrow seas in the British Isles where the sailing
vessel holds the mail contract, just as there are still inland districts
where the mail coach survives. Between the mainland of Shetland and Fair
Isle, the mails are carried once a fortnight by sailing vessel, and
there are similar services between Shetland and Foula, and between
Mallaig and Knoydart on the west coast of Scotland.

I have said nothing as yet about the oldest ocean mail route in the
Kingdom, the narrow channel between Dover and Calais. By far the largest
amount of foreign correspondence still goes this way. India,
Australasia, China, and Japan mails as well as European cross the
Straits of Dover, and as a mail station Dover is second to none. Mails
go also by British contract _via_ Harwich and the Hook of Holland, and
Newhaven and Dieppe, but the quantity is comparatively small. There is
also a Belgian Government service between Dover and Ostend, and a Dutch
Company's mail service between Queenborough, Folkestone, and Flushing.

The Admiralty Pier at Dover has been facetiously called “the pier of the
realm,” but there is a truth underlying the play on the word. The
connection between the Post Office and the Admiralty has always been
very close since the days of the Packet Service, but until recent years
the Admiralty was not much in evidence at Dover, and the description of
the pier would have been more fittingly “the Post Office Pier.” The
Admiralty has now, however, with the completed harbour works, entered
into possession; but the Post Office is still a working partner.




                              CHAPTER XVI
                            THE POSTAL UNION


In spite of desolating wars and quarrels between rival nations, there
has been growing in Europe during the last fifty or sixty years a sense
of the need for international action. The Great Exhibition of 1851
raised hopes of universal brotherhood and of the turning of spears into
pruning-hooks, but in a few short years the nations were again engaged
in the fiercest conflicts, and at the present time European countries
are armed in a way that is a constant danger to peace. Still the fact
remains that during the whole time international movements have been
developing, and a spirit of unity is spreading among the nations.
Governments are usually the last bodies of men to feel such influences.
The movements come from below—from the workers, who realise that the
problems they have to face are the same as those of every other country,
and from the men of business, who have long since realised that
co-operation with the foreigner is better for trade than any attempts to
hamper his action. The doctrines of universal brotherhood and of love
have no doubt exercised a certain influence on European thought: the
message of the poets and of religious enthusiasts has usually taken this
form; but the verdict of the men who pride themselves on their common
sense has in the past been, that the ideas do not belong to practical
politics. The discovery of modern times is that the message of the poets
is good business. Solidarity among the nations is the discovery of the
commercial man, and although the sentiment of nationality and the
instinct for war are too deeply engrained in the human mind to be
uprooted at once, the fact remains that the avoidance of war at all
hazards is now the avowed object of European peoples, just as in former
times the rushing into war seemed the easiest and most profitable way of
settling difficulties.

Then the long peace which followed on Waterloo, and the introduction of
the railways, opened up the Continent to the traveller, and year by year
the communications, friendly and commercial, between the nations
increased. And nothing irritated both the traveller and the business man
more than the capricious varieties in postal rates which existed in
Europe prior to 1875. There were in existence treaties, agreements, and
understandings between different nations on the subject of postal
communications, but every national Post Office made the best terms it
could for itself when making a treaty, and there was no approach to
uniformity. The idea of each nation was to make the foreigner pay, and
while in many instances this policy may have meant an immediate increase
of revenue to the particular Government, it did not help the trade of
the country, which suffered also from the natural efforts of the rival
country to pursue a policy of retaliation in postal matters. There were
many units of weight in use; and the scale of progression was variable,
as were also the charges. The latter were very high, and their
calculation was a matter of great difficulty. A letter which had to be
sent in transit through several countries was charged according to the
different units and progressions of weight in vogue. Thus the postage on
such a letter was ordinarily composed of the internal rate of the
country of origin, the internal rate of that of destination, the rate of
each country it passed through, and the charge for sea transit where
such means was employed. With the ideas then prevalent, it seemed to be
not only good business but the fair and square thing all round, that
every nation should exact its full charge on every letter which passed
through its boundaries.

The honour of first raising the question of the organisation of
international postal business belongs to the United States Government,
which in 1862 suggested a conference of the delegates of different
Postal Administrations for the purpose of discussing the matter.
Fifteen Governments at once adopted the proposal, and the Conference
took place at Paris in May 1863. The Conference lasted nearly a month,
and discussed thirty-six questions which arose in connection with the
three fundamental questions of the uniformity of weight, the
uniformity of rates and the simplification of accounting, including
naturally an amelioration of the system of transit. From a postal
point of view the delegates represented nine-tenths of the commerce
and nineteen-twentieths of the correspondence of the whole world. They
represented, moreover, 400 millions of persons belonging to the most
civilised and the most industrious nations of the world. The outcome
of the labours of the Conference was the proposition for an
International Postal Union. This idea was set forth in 1868 in the
official journal of the Postal Administration of Northern Germany, by
Herr Von Stephan, who deserves a place of honourable mention among
postal reformers. He suggested a Universal Congress to consider the
matter, but the Franco-Prussian War interrupted the negotiations. They
were reopened when peace was established, and the first move came then
from the little republic of Switzerland, which from its neutral
position was better able to take the lead at a time when national
animosities were strong in Europe. The Government of the Swiss
Confederation invited representatives from Europe, the United States,
and Egypt to meet at Berne in 1874, and it was here that the Postal
Union was called into existence. The man of the hour was Herr Von
Stephan, who came fresh from carrying out a similar scheme among the
numerous small German States. Dr. Von Stephan was a man of ideas who
also possessed eloquence, and he was the leading spirit of the
Congress.

The central idea of the Union which he proposed was to arrange that the
whole of the countries forming it should be for postal purposes a single
territory, and within that territory there was to be a uniform tariff.
It was necessary that such a scheme should be large enough to make it
possible for the greatest available number of administrations to adhere
to it, and that the sacrifices that it would be needful to make would be
more than compensated for by the development of postal traffic. Of
course the idea met with great opposition. Financial experts shook their
heads, and authoritatively declared that proposals for reducing and
simplifying postal rates were a danger to the finances of their
respective countries. In Great Britain, where the Post Office brings in
annually a great revenue to the Treasury, there was also opposition: it
was clear that under the new arrangement the British Government would
have to do a great deal for nothing in the carrying of the world's
letters. Nationalists of all countries saw in the proposal a menace to
national sentiment and national glory. But over and above all these
considerations was the great question of the public convenience, and
people were beginning to understand the great principle of State
administration, that a loss to one Department is not a loss to the State
if the people benefit. Dr. Von Stephan was for twenty-five years the
head of the German Postal Administration, and he attended more than one
of the Congresses subsequent to that at Berne. At the Vienna Congress of
1891 he modestly resisted the idea that the Postal Union originated from
his action. He said: “Ideas are not originated by any individual. They
float in the atmosphere for a whole epoch, at first vaguely, then in a
more distinct form, until they condense and precipitate themselves in
taking body and life. The idea of unification is in harmony with the
aspirations of our century: it prevails to-day in many of the domains of
human activity: it constitutes the true motive power of human
civilisation. As for our great machine of international exchange, it
was, moreover, stimulated by this irrefutable fact, that the enormous
masses which devolved upon it to handle, which increased from day to
day, and extended from frontier to frontier, and to the furthest seas
and latitudes, urgently demanded a simplification of the entire
mechanism as the only means of making headway against its almost
unlimited requirements and of maintaining indispensable rapidity and
regularity. Such are the natural elements which were the true founders
of the Universal Postal Union.”

The Treaty of Berne has been described as the greatest manifestation of
the spirit of solidarity in the history of the world, and the Conference
of Berne has been spoken of as the first Parliament of Mankind. It is
always a temptation to speak in exaggerated terms of great advances in
humanity and civilisation. International Conferences had been held
before in the history of mankind, notably those of the Catholic Church,
but their tendency had been rather to stultify human thought, and they
had done little or nothing to promote the peace of the world. But here
at Berne had been called into existence a Postal Parliament, and in the
different Congresses which have been held since at various capitals,
debates and discussions have taken place between delegates from all the
nations participating in the Union. The work these Congresses do is
quietly and unostentatiously performed, but it is a real portion of that
great movement in favour of peace and goodwill among nations which, in
spite of great armies and huge navies, is leavening the life of Europe
at the present day.

Ten years after the Treaty of Berne the Union had absorbed nearly all
the nations of the world, and to-day China is the only civilised country
which does not participate, although she is constantly expressing her
hope to be able to do so at no distant date.

The first and principal work of the Union was to abolish the involved
and differing rates of postage on correspondence between various
nations. Letters, postcards, and printed matter were in future to
circulate at one common series of rates, viz. 2½d., 1d., and ½d., or
their equivalents in the currencies of the different countries. As the
Union grew, the sphere of its activities also increased, and to the
original scheme were added arrangements for the exchange of insured
articles, money orders, and parcels.

The business of the Postal Union is conducted at a Central Office at
Berne. Here are settled misunderstandings and disputes, and the accounts
for the conveying of mails and the exchange of money orders, &c. The
expenses of this bureau are remarkably small, and are met by the Post
Offices of the participating nations. A publication called _L'Union
Postale_ is issued monthly by the Central Office.

One of the latest schemes adopted by the Union is the reply coupon.
People of a generous disposition are able to pay not only the postage on
their own letters but also that of the replies. Whatever opinion may be
formed of the anxiety of men and women in general to save other people's
pockets at the expense of their own, there can be no doubt that a
limited number, either from altruistic motives or because possibly they
wish to exploit some commercial scheme, demand some means of prepaying
replies other than the double postcard, which has never been much in
favour. Special coupons are now exchangeable by the Post Office of any
country which adopts the scheme for a postage stamp of 25 centimes
(2½d.) or its equivalent. For instance, a friend can write to you from
Japan and enclose a coupon which, if you present it at a post office,
will obtain for you without charge the stamp necessary for your reply.

Since the Congress at Berne there have been held Congresses at Berne in
1876, Paris in 1880, Lisbon in 1885, Vienna in 1891, Washington in 1897
and Rome in 1904. What does a Congress of this kind resemble when it is
sitting? Is it simply a dull assembly of black-coated gentlemen such as
our own House of Commons? Here is a lively account of the first meeting
of the Washington Congress, taken from the _Washington Evening Star_ of
the 5th May 1897: “The Universal Postal Congress begun its sessions at
the old Corcoran Art Gallery this morning shortly after eleven o'clock.
The delegates began to gather long before this hour, and assembled in
the room to the left of the entrance on the first floor. They made a
striking and picturesque group. The majority of the gentlemen were in
full dress with white gloves, but a number of them wore military
uniforms with side arms. The profusion of decorations worn by the
delegates was as notable as the insignias were brilliant and beautiful.
Jewelled stars, gem-encrusted circlets, and a large variety of other
emblems significant of the honours conferred upon their wearers by
potentates and governments, were displayed. Some of the delegates wore
as many as a dozen decorations of this character hanging pendent from
brilliant ribbons around their necks, pinned to coat lapels or bosoms,
or held by broad, bright scarfs that encircled their bodies. The Danish
and Italian representatives were attired in military uniforms heavily
embroidered with gold, and the Russians wore velvet cloaks with many
silver buttons, while golden spurs hung at the heels of their
patent-leather riding-boots. The Japanese wore the military uniform of
that empire.... The conversation among the delegates buzzed in a dozen
different languages, the little groups of delegates from the same
country talking together in their native tongues but quickly using
French when addressing their remarks to others.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE POSTAL UNION MONUMENT.]

      Erected at Berne to commemorate the founding of the Postal
      Union. On the ledge of a rock is seated a woman, whose hand
      rests on the escutcheon of the town of Berne. On the summit
      of the rock a bank of clouds, which to glide into space,
      bears up a sphere around which float five female figures,
      symbols of the five divisions of the world, offering letters
      to each other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps I may add an extract from a speech made at the conclusion of the
same Conference by Sir Spencer Walpole, who was at that time Secretary
of the British Post Office: “One word more, gentlemen. We are going back
to our duties and our toils: but we shall never forget our meetings in
this beautiful city of Washington, where we have worked to improve the
postal communications of the world. At this moment I recall the morning
on which we found ourselves collected in a little church of this city.
The representatives of sixty nations and I know not how many religions
were met together to show respect to a colleague unfortunately deceased,
and to commend his soul to the God of all nations of the world—both
eastern and western. That gathering seems to me a type of our Congress.
We, the delegates of sixty nations, found ourselves united in the same
thought—I had almost said in the same religion. I hope that this thought
will more and more dominate our work, and that the improvement of the
communications of the world at which we have laboured will lead to
friendship among the nations, to brotherliness among men, and to
universal peace.”

Only those who have been present at one of these Congresses can fully
realise how much they make for the results hoped for by Sir Spencer
Walpole. It is a revelation of the community of interest which is shared
by all the nations of the world in the matter of international
intercourse. And of course the effect on other departments of life is
wide-reaching.

In order to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the foundation
of the Universal Postal Union a monument was unveiled at Berne in
October 1910. The sculptor is M. René de Saint Marceaux of Paris. On a
ledge of a rock whose broad base is solidly embedded in the earth, and
from the foot of which flows a small spring, is seated a woman whose
delicate hand rests on the escutcheon of the town of Berne. On the
summit of the rock a bank of clouds, which seems to glide in space,
bears up a sphere round which float five female figures, symbols of the
five continents of the world. The figures are passing a letter from hand
to hand, illustrating the activity of the universal post. Always moving,
regardless of obstruction or frontiers, it carries to the utmost limits
of the world the messages of joy or mourning which are entrusted to its
care. The monument is an additional ornament to the beautiful city of
Berne: it is also an abiding memory of the success of the greatest of
modern efforts to bring under one banner all the nations of the earth.




                              CHAPTER XVII
                    CONCERNING FOREIGN POST OFFICES


The whole tendency of the postal system in Europe and America is towards
uniformity. The Postal Union is largely responsible for this, while the
necessities of trade and foreign travel have brought about a
simplification of methods and rates everywhere. Still, wherever there
are differences of race and nationality even identical systems will be
worked differently, and anybody who has travelled in Europe and America
is forced at every turn to compare, favourably or unfavourably as the
case may be, the foreign Post Office with the one which he is accustomed
to at home. Perhaps the chief differences that an Englishman notes in
several European countries are the more leisurely ways of the official:
this individual does not understand the necessity for speeding up, and
he looks upon the man who is in a hurry as simply a mad Englishman. The
leading features of our own postal system are to be found in most
countries: the postal service, the telegraph, and the telephone are
usually linked together, and the difference is the human factor. The
experiences of all travellers differ for this very reason. Some return
home with really heartrending accounts of their experiences with the
foreign Post Offices, with tales of red tape and “the insolence of
office” which are not to be matched with the complaints of our people
against their own Post Office. Many of these complaints of travellers
arise obviously out of difficulties with the language, and the absurd
irritation of the average Britisher at ways and methods of doing things
which do not correspond with his idea of good business. Other travellers
return with glowing accounts of the superiority of foreign methods, of
the courtesy which has been shown to them by officials, and of the many
conveniences they have found abroad to which this country is still a
stranger. Many of us, for instance, have revelled in the privileges
offered to the tourist in Switzerland. There is scarcely anything you
cannot send by post in Switzerland, from a piece of card to a
well-filled travelling trunk or a sack of potatoes. But then we must
remember that the chief industry of Switzerland is tourists, and she
certainly caters for these in a most exemplary manner. There is,
perhaps, more rigidity in applying postal regulations on the Continent
than in this country. Especially is this the case in Germany, where the
whole nation understands discipline. What we sneer at as red tape the
German regards as a necessary part of the organisation of his empire.

But, broadly speaking, the Continental Post Office is closely allied to
our own in its methods, and where it differs is in its adaptation to
local habits and peculiarities.

There is a type of English traveller who habitually regards the
foreigner as a person incapable of the higher civilisation to be found
in the British Isles. We can have no sympathy with him, and the British
Post Office has learnt much and is learning much from the Post Offices
of other countries. The German Post Office is, for instance, one of the
best-organised systems in the world. The German people owe this state of
things largely to the ability and energy of Dr. Von Stephan, who was
mainly instrumental in establishing the Postal Union. The post offices
of the German Empire are among the finest modern buildings in Europe.
Many were built under the direction of Dr. Von Stephan, and they are an
example to the British Post Office of how such buildings should be
erected. It was a fixed principle with Dr. Von Stephan, that when any
special type of architecture distinguished any particular town the
architecture of the post office should faithfully reflect it. As a
consequence the offices which have been erected since 1870 reveal great
diversities of style, and are in striking contrast to the monotony
characteristic of our English post offices. We may be quite sure that
the German Postmaster-General would never have sanctioned the erection
in a quaint old English town, full of Tudor and Jacobean architecture,
of a “standard post office.” Yet this enormity is constantly being
perpetrated in some of our old English towns and villages, and the
consequence is that the beauty and picturesqueness of the place are
seriously damaged. The post office swears at the rest of the buildings,
and if the buildings had only a voice I am quite sure they would swear
at the post office.

Then Germany was for years in advance of Great Britain in the provision
of underground cables for telegraphic purposes. Before even a start in
this direction had been made by the British Post Office over 220 cities
and towns of the German Empire had secured telegraphic communications in
spite of storms, and above all in spite of the accidents of war.

But against all this we have the accusation that the German official is
rude and overbearing. He gives the impression that you, being only a
civilian, should wait on his convenience: it is your recognition of the
dignity of his office. A writer in _The Sketch_ some time ago described
the outcome of his temerity in venturing to enter a post office in
Germany to purchase a postage stamp. The first thing which struck him
was the arrangement of little slits in the glass walls, behind which the
postal officials sat. He took up his place at the end of a queue of
people, but after waiting some time without being able to report
progress, took steps to find out the cause and found that the slit had
not been opened. The official on duty appeared unperturbed, and was not
doing anything in particular.

“Finally, with a gravity unsurpassed, I should venture to think, in
history, an official undid the slit. Then a few stamps and cards were
sold to members of the queue. Then the official's attention was
distracted.

“'Would it be possible—?' a lady with bowed neck humbly began.

“'No.'

“The hope of the post office shut down the slit with a snap; and the
queue settled down to more patience and more beating time.”

The German accepts this as a part of his divinely organised scheme of
things; it is the Englishman who meditates murder.

Many of us are familiar with the French Post Office. In many ways the
French have been in advance of our own methods. It is only since 1897
that we have had in this country a complete system of rural posts, but
as early as 1830 a law was passed in France, that in every village where
there was no post office, there should at least be a delivery of letters
every two days. In 1877 the Chief of the French Post Office could say
with justice that the rural delivery in France was the most perfect in
the world. The real hero of the French Postal Service, it has been said,
is the rural postman. From year's end to year's end he trudges on,
without a rest even on the greatest holidays. In France nothing less
than a revolution stops the postman's rounds, and even then he has often
been seen, bag in hand, smiling on the summits of barricades with the
bullets whistling around him.

The most stirring times in the history of the French Post Office were
during the war of 1870-71. The efforts to maintain the postal system led
to acts of great heroism on the part of the officials. The first
expedient was to organise a pigeon service carrying microscopic
despatches, prepared by the aid of photographic appliances. On their
arrival in Paris these were flattened out and thrown by means of the
electric lantern on to a screen, copied by clerks, and despatched to
their destination. The number of postal pigeons employed was 313. The
second expedient was to establish a regular system of postal balloons,
fifty-one being employed for letter service and six for telegraphic
service. These were very successful, in spite of the building by Krupp
of twenty guns, supplied with telescopic apparatus, for the destruction
of the balloons. The bravery of the French balloon postmen was only
equalled by that of many of the ordinary letter carriers, who conveyed
letters through the catacombs and quarries of Paris and its suburbs,
and, under various disguises, often through the midst of the Prussian
army. Several lost their lives in the discharge of their duties. The
eagerness of the Germans to defeat the schemes of the brave Frenchmen is
illustrated by the fact that they employed hawks to catch the postal
pigeons.

France has lagged behind Great Britain in other directions. The French
Postal Savings Banks only date from 1881, although from 1875, the post
offices had been used as agencies for existing banks. But we must
remember that the French Government has for years offered special
facilities to the small investor in “Rentes,” the equivalent of Consols
in this country, and the special need of a State Savings Bank was not so
marked as in this country. The French Postal Telegraph system was
established nearly ten years after the British system, but on the other
hand there have been postal telephones in France since 1879.

The Parcel Post is managed differently in France from this country. The
service is carried on under the control of the Post Office by railway
and steamship companies. Parcels are not accepted at post offices except
in places distant from railway stations, and in Paris and important
towns they are taken in at special parcel booking offices. Neither are
parcels delivered by the Post Office but by the railway companies.

Then in France there is a postal service called “Valeurs à recouvrer.”
Everybody is allowed to deposit bills at a post office for collection.
This is a great convenience and very practical. You enclose the bill, or
the invoice or draft which you want to be paid, in a special envelope
called “Enveloppe de valuer à recouvrer,” and you hand it to an officer
of the Post Office. A certificate of the posting must be obtained. When
the bill or invoice has been paid by the addressee, the Department sends
you a money order which can be cashed at any post office.

The French Post Office also supplies card money orders payable not at a
post office, but at the payee's address.

The Spanish Post Office is trying. Spain is a thinly populated country,
with comparatively few large towns, and if you travel off the beaten
track you will meet all kinds of inconveniences. A Spanish post office
is usually superior to so petty a trade as the sale of stamps: you
obtain these at the shops. Moreover, though other postal business is
transacted at the Post Office, there are certain hours set apart for
different kinds of business. A Spanish post office may be open from nine
until ten for the registration of letters, from ten until eleven for the
sale of postal orders, from eleven until noon for the payment of postal
orders, and so on. This is the Spaniard's idea of simplifying business,
not only for the public, but the official. The Spanish postal official
is often a poorly paid and rather badly used individual. The postmaster
of a large town in the Canary Islands confessed to a friend of mine, who
was postmaster of a big city in the United Kingdom, that his salary was
less than a third of the Englishman's. And he added, “I don't even get
that as a rule unless I go to Madrid for it.”

A visitor to Grand Canary on asking for a postcard was informed that
there had been none in the island for three months. The postmaster had
applied to Madrid for a supply but in vain. He was probably expected to
fetch his stores as well as his salary. The Spaniard, at any rate, is
modest about his Post Office: he does not increase your annoyance by
claiming perfection. He is one of the oldest members of the Old World,
and he has not learnt the art of self-advertisement.

But cross the Atlantic, visit the United States, and before you have
time to experience any of the inconveniences of the postal service, you
will be told it is the smartest in the world. It is not only the man in
the street who makes this claim; the Postmaster-General does it
frequently in his Annual Report. Here is the conclusion of one Annual
Report: it is the Postmaster-General's peroration: “It is therefore not
too much to state that in most of the more important relations of the
Postal Service, as shown by the statistics, the United States leads the
world.” It is not too much to say of this outburst that if the British
Postmaster-General were to say this of his Post Office in his Annual
Report, a reduction in his salary would be at once moved in the House of
Commons, and it would probably be carried by the combined votes of
Imperialists and Little Englanders. Owing partly to the language used by
postal reformers there is an idea prevalent in parliamentary circles
that the British Post Office is behind the times.

I am not denying that the United States Post Office is splendidly
organised, nor that in many respects it is in advance of our own system
and that of other countries, but we like to discover the advantages
ourselves. If, however, the service is excellent, it certainly does not
pay: the United States Post Office is carried on at a loss. And this is
due, as their own officials admit, to the low rates, and the way the low
rates are taken advantage of unfairly by smart Americans. The “mail
matter,” as it is called, is classified, and there are different rates
for each class. First class, letters and post cards; second class,
periodical publications; third class, miscellaneous printed matter; and
fourth class, matter not included in other classes. It is the lowness of
the charges for the second-class matter which is the despair of the Post
Office economist in America, and to this he attributes largely the loss
on the business. There is, for instance, a monthly publication in a
large eastern city which weighs 4 lbs. It is delivered by the Post
Office for two cents in the city in which it is mailed: it is carried
free of charge to any post office within the county in which it is
published, and is sent to such remote places as San Francisco, Cuba or
Hawaii, at the rate of four cents a copy. For what is virtually a
volume, this is an absurdly low charge for carriage, and in comparing
rates of postage with those in the United Kingdom, it must not be
forgotten that letters are conveyed in America over much greater
distances than in this country.

There is a growing demand in this country for a cheaper rate for
periodical publications, and those who make the demand are justified in
claiming that the Post Office exists for the convenience of the public,
and that a reform which would be the means of increasing the circulation
of useful and entertaining publications should receive the support of
the State. But they are not justified in pointing to the example of
America, unless they are prepared to admit that the increased charge
will ultimately fall on the taxpayer of this country. The question is,
“Are we justified in charging the taxpayer for a reform which will only
benefit a comparatively small number of the public?” If they can
convince the public through the representatives of the people in the
House of Commons, the reform will be carried; but it is difficult to see
how, if it is, the postal revenue of something over three millions,
which at present goes to the relief of taxation, will be maintained.

In one respect the American officials are vastly ahead of us. They too
have apparently suffered much from the applicants for information who
are ignorant of the very elements of postal business. It has therefore
occurred to the officials that systematic instruction might be given to
the public on postal subjects. Here is the official order to
postmasters: “Postmasters are hereby directed to confer with their local
school authorities with the view of adopting the most effective method
of instructing school-children as to the organisation and operations of
the postal service. These instructions should cover such features of the
service as the delivery of the mails, the classification of mail matter,
the registry and money order systems, and particularly the proper
addressing of letters and the importance of placing return cards or
envelopes. Postmasters should arrange if possible to deliver personal
talks to the pupils on these subjects, and should give teachers access
to the Postal Guide and Postal Laws and Regulations, and render them
every assistance in securing necessary information.”

Instead of being treated as a joke, as a similar order might have been
in this country, numerous letters were at once received by the United
States Post Office from postmasters and school-boards all over the
country indicating the liveliest interest in the subject.

This is a chance for a British Postmaster-General to save his successors
much unnecessary and trying correspondence, by adopting a similar
policy.

The rural delivery of letters in the United States was during many
recent years in a very backward state, but considerable advances have
lately taken place. The fetching of letters from the post office was the
practice in places with even a large population.

A writer in the _Paris Messenger_ not long ago was very indignant at the
claims made by an official of the American Government, “that the
American postal system was the best in the world and the best managed.”
The writer said he had made an examination of European postal systems
recently, and this was about as impudent a pronouncement as can well be
imagined. America possesses no Postal Savings Bank, no Postal Telegraph
system (in many Western States it costs three francs to send a dozen
words a hundred miles over the monopolist private wires), there is no
system of Parcel Post such as exists in England, and until recently
there was no rural delivery. To see a long line of citizens, even in
towns of five and six thousand inhabitants, waiting outside the post
office for their morning mail, was as curious a sight for a European as
could be imagined. I should add that the writer was an American.

The report of the United States Postmaster-General is frequently a more
plain-spoken and colloquial document than the purely business statement
which the British Postmaster-General issues annually. This is only to be
expected. Other officials in the United States have the same breezy
style.

A complaint was made to the Postmaster-General by a sheriff in Texas on
the conduct of a postmistress. He accused her of incivility. “We don't
set up any claim that our manners are all that they should be, but we'd
like to be reasoned with and helped along. The postmistress here is a
worthy woman all right, and there ain't a thing against her character,
but she certainly is rude and hasty. One day last week the mayor, being
some flushed up and careless, refused to remove his hat and bow on
asking for the official mail, whereupon his hat was shot off and plumb
ruined, and he left the post office so swiftly and undignified that it
told against the standing of the town. There's another thing we don't
think is fair. The postmistress won't let <DW65>s and greasers come in
the office under any consideration. We ain't over fond of <DW65>s and
greasers ourselves; but it is sure discommoding for the leading citizens
to have to go to the post office personally to get the mail just because
this lady don't like to see anything but a gentleman. We don't like to
appear fault-finding and picayunish where a lady is concerned, but this
I'm telling about is sure arbitrary and abrupt, and we'd like to have
her tamed down some.”

The Post Office Bulletin of Chicago, a publication similar in object to
our own Post Office Circular, often contains very plain-spoken words.
Unlike the authorities in England, the Chicago postmaster is quick to
record, in his periodical reports of the work of his office, any
humorous incidents which have come under his notice. The following
lightens up a page devoted to departmental changes, hours of delivery,
and new telephone services:—

“Twenty times a day some one calls at a post office or a station and
requests the address of some dear friend, father, mother, daughter,
wife, or delinquent debtor. The delinquent debtor is in the majority,
and he usually covers his tracks successfully. To the Post Office,
therefore, the creditor comes as a last resort, and he is often amazed
when he is informed that addresses cannot be given; that the Post Office
is not a court; is bound to respect the confidences imposed on it; that
its sole business is to deliver mail; and that anyway it really has no
time to ferret out addresses.

“On Monday a gentleman searching for a delinquent, hit upon the plan of
sending out a special letter from the Twenty-second Street station
addressed to the debtor. The debtor's residence had formerly been in
this district, and the creditor was anxious to find out if he was still
in the neighbourhood. So he began with a special letter. An hour after
mailing he called at the station and inquired if the letter had been
delivered. He was told that it had. Then he was aware it must have been
delivered from this station, or the question could not have been
answered off-hand. As a Sherlock Holmes he had made a great beginning.
His next step was to write and address another special letter and
announce his intention of following the special messenger and his wheel
in a cab. The clerk in charge preserved a wooden countenance, and said
that he could not prevent him following the messenger. In five minutes
after the mailing of the letter two special messengers issued from the
station. Each had letters to deliver. The man in the cab followed one of
them. He followed the wrong one.”

If our Post Office Circular contained racy reports of this nature
concerning the smart deeds of our officials, the vested interests of the
halfpenny press would be imperilled, and an injunction would be demanded
against the Postmaster-General to prevent him entering into competition
with private enterprise.

The Postmaster-General in one report gravely stated that the postmaster
of Sheridan, Wyoming, “had been removed from his office because he had
an unfortunate habit of burning all mail matter which did not meet with
his approval.” This action of the Postmaster-General seems certainly to
have been justified: the Post Office has eccentric servants all over the
world, but it draws the line at the destruction of mail matter. Wherever
this happens the man is dismissed, and in England, at least, he would be
prosecuted.

The South American post offices in many instances take after the mother
country of Spain. The _Monte Video Times_ in July 1896 made this
pathetic complaint: “It is now some two years that we have been without
postcards.”

The Japan Post Office is, as may be imagined, splendidly organised.
Before the year 1854 the state of Japan resembled that of Europe in the
twelfth century. A few nobles ruled the country with despotic authority,
and their united policy was to exclude the foreigner. Then the United
States fleet appeared off the coast and forced upon the nobles a treaty
which brought their country into the family of nations. The gates were
opened; and the advance has been one of the most extraordinary
happenings in modern history. In 1872 Japan established her first Post
Office, and in 1877 she joined the Postal Union. She is always eager to
adopt the newest ways of transacting business, and for her Savings Bank
work she has given up ledgers and has adopted the card system for
keeping accounts. Her Postal Savings Bank is a wonderful success.
Upwards of 8,000,000 accounts have been opened out of a population of
about 47,000,000. Japan's telegraph system is equal to any in Europe. It
may, perhaps, be interesting to state how Japan is related
telegraphically to foreign countries. Of her messages about 40 per cent.
are credited to Korea, 28 per cent. to China, 9 per cent. to England, 7
per cent. to the United States, 4 per cent. to India, 3 per cent. to
Germany, 2 per cent. to France and Russia. Japan has peculiar
difficulties to contend with in Post Office work owing to the great
number of islands included in the Empire, the exceptionally mountainous
nature of the country, and the wide areas covered by the cities in
proportion to the number of their inhabitants. Of course the astonishing
nature of the advance of Japan is that it has all taken place in recent
years. The first effort at telegraphy was only made as recently as 1870.
As in most countries, the sudden introduction of so mysterious an agency
created great opposition on the part of the superstitious lower orders,
and there were many attempts to cut the wires.

China has an interesting Post Office system. She has not yet joined the
Postal Union, and has only partially assimilated Western ways of doing
business. The service has been spoken of as “reasonably efficient.” The
Post Office serves all the open ports and every important city in the
interior. The Chinese Postal Guide, first published in 1900, is for
completeness and utility not far behind our own. Postal communication
with the outside world is carried on through the agencies of the various
Postal Union countries located at the treaty ports. The great volume of
the business is, however, conducted through Hong-Kong. “My message from
Pong-King was the first that has been despatched from that office in the
six years of its existence. This detail may serve as a sufficient
description of the country,” wrote a correspondent of the _Daily
Telegraph_ in 1907. The Postmaster-General of the Straits Settlements
received a petition for the reduction of rates to China. “If the prayer
is not granted,” the petition went on, “the results will be that the
wife, not receiving information respecting the whereabouts of her
husband, will contract a new marriage, and taking her children with her
to follow her new lord, leave no one behind to perpetuate that ancestral
worship so dear to the heart of every Chinaman. The aged parents, not
hearing from their son, will be occasioned to have a thousand anxious
thoughts about him, will lose their appetite and die. The sister-in-law
who is a widow, and depends upon her brother-in-law for support, will
starve through receiving no remittances from him. In this way many
Chinese homes will be rendered wretched.” In spite of this heartrending
appeal the petition was not granted, and we suppose the melancholy
results prophesied followed. Postal officials everywhere are supposed to
be heartless, and to regard human beings as simply revenue-producing
agents.

I have only attempted in this chapter to give to the reader glimpses of
the Postal Administrations of a few big countries. To do anything else
would require twenty chapters instead of one, and to give a complete
account would involve countless statements in figures and comparative
estimates. There are annual reports published by most of the Post
Offices of the world, and they are very much alike in style and matter.
The human touch has to be sought for in other ways and in other
documents. Post Office history and economics are interesting to the
student, but what interests us all are the men and women inside the Post
Office, on both sides of the counter.




                             CHAPTER XVIII
                     THE POST OFFICES OF THE EMPIRE


During the processions which took place to commemorate the Diamond
Jubilee of Queen Victoria, one of the most interesting features was the
prominence given to the soldiers of the Empire. If it were possible to
collect together a similar representative gathering of men who have
served their sovereign in a civil capacity, a selection of the postmen
of the Empire would be quite as interesting and perhaps equally
picturesque. And if, in addition to the men, there could also pass
through the streets of London the various means by which the mails are
carried to their destination, what an object-lesson it would be in the
activities of the Post Office! In this country the horse, the motor van,
and the railway train are the usual bearers of his Majesty's mails—in
addition, of course, to the ubiquitous postman. But the letter-carriers
from other parts of the Empire would include the dog from British
Columbia, the elephant from India, the camel from the Cape, and the
pigeon from New Zealand.

Great Britain was the pioneer of the Penny Post, and one of the benefits
now associated with her Empire is that throughout practically its whole
extent a penny is the minimum charge for a letter between any particular
colony and the mother country. The United States has also been included
in the countries sharing this privilege, and the term “Imperial Penny
Postage,” which was for a long time the battle-cry of postal reformers,
has therefore ceased to have any but a sentimental meaning. It is highly
probable that before many years pass European countries will also join
with Great Britain in reducing the charge for international postage.
Meantime, at any rate, the English-speaking nations of the world are
linked together by the Penny Post. Credit must be given to Mr. Henniker
Heaton and other postal reformers for the way in which, during the later
years of the nineteenth century, they kept this question to the front,
and educated public opinion, both in the colonies and this country, to
the point of demanding the reform from the respective governments. But
the times were also favourable to the accomplishment of the idea. There
will always probably be great differences of opinion on various phases
of Mr. Chamberlain's career; but I think future generations will be
unanimous as to the value of the services he rendered to the Empire,
when as Secretary of State for the Colonies he brought home to his
countrymen, in a way that had never been attempted before, their
responsibility to our dependencies and colonies. The linking up of the
Empire by means of the Penny Post was a portion of his policy.

Let me begin with India. There had been, previous to our occupation of
that country, many attempts made at establishing postal organisations;
but like those in our own land previous to the seventeenth century, they
were maintained not for the public but for the use of the Government.
Not until the East India Company ceased to be, and the English
Government took over the whole business of administration, was a really
efficient postal service organised. The broad lines of the British
postal system are followed in India, though the postal and telegraph
administrations are separated. In the annual report you will find
elaborate tables of Post Office figures, and records which have been
beaten, and until you come to the section dealing with the postal
incidents during the year you might fancy you were reading a report of
the British Postmaster-General. It is the table of incidents which
reveals to us what service in India means to the postal servant. The
figures and official language of the report do not hide from us the
enormous difficulties in working the service in an immense country of
over 150 separate languages, where railway journeys are reckoned by
days, and where caste enters even into Post Office questions.

One of the special Indian conditions is the prevalence of plague; post
offices are sometimes removed temporarily from this cause, and
accommodation is found in tents. Money is given to officers who have
displayed special courage in the face of exceptional risks, or it is
given to the surviving representatives of men who died of plague while
in the execution of their duty.

Then there are the daily risks of a service carried on in a country
subject to great convulsions of Nature and where wild beasts abound. In
one year this was the chapter of accidents. There were thirty-two
highway robberies of the mail, of which twenty occurred in British
territory and eight in native States. No life was lost, but in nineteen
cases the mail carriers were more or less seriously injured. Other
casualties in the same year were the loss of a mail steamer and all
hands by a cyclone, the sinking of a steam launch in the Gulf of Cutch,
and the wrecking of the mail train from Madras to Bombay owing to the
destruction of a bridge by flood. The mail line at Gilgit was twice
overwhelmed by avalanches, two runners were drowned while trying to
cross flooded streams, an overseer in Assam was attacked by a wild
buffalo and died of his wounds, and a village postman in Madras was
mauled to death by two bears. In Eastern Bengal a postmaster was
murdered and his postman was wounded by dacoits, and another postman was
murdered in a hut. As many as twenty-three post offices were burnt down,
three were blown down, and three were washed away by floods.

Truly there are perils connected with the Indian postal service of which
we know nothing in Great Britain.

In the chapter of accidents for another year we read of a mail runner
who was carried away in broad daylight by a man-eating tiger, another
mail runner was attacked by a wolf described as “the terror of the
country side,” but he succeeded in killing the animal after a severe
struggle. “Slain by a tiger,” “badly mauled by a leopard,” are
descriptions of the accidents to other postal servants.

Even that slow-moving animal the elephant is in some districts in India
the carrier of his Majesty's mails. In the tea district may be seen post
offices built on piles to get above the swamp, and the elephant is the
carrier at the last stage of the journey of a letter which probably
started in a limited mail train.

The typical postman of India is the runner or “harkara.” The railways in
that country are mostly trunk lines, and runners are employed for the
whole internal network of postal lines, mail carts being used only in
very few places where the weight of the mails is particularly heavy. The
pay of the runner is usually not more than Rs. 5 a month; in a few
districts it is as much as Rs. 7; while in others it falls to Rs. 4.
This is equivalent to 7s. or 8s. a month, and on this modest sum the
Indian runner can live, and perhaps bring up a family. It is said of him
that “he has no idea of luxuries,” and perhaps for his own sake this is
fortunate.

The Department provides him with a mud stage hut, and the local landlord
is often induced to give the runner a small piece of land, in
cultivating which he spends most of his leisure time, and perhaps
increases his salary by growing eatables which he can sell.

The runner's dress is a short white cotton coat and a dhotee tied
lightly round his loins, coming nearly to the knees, so as not to
interfere with the free movement of his limbs. He wears a red pugaree
for a head-dress. Then he has a leather belt and a spear with bells. The
bells are a concession to an old superstition, as they are supposed to
frighten away evil spirits and wild animals.

The imagination of Rudyard Kipling was stirred by the runner tearing
through the jungle with his staff and ringing bells. We all know the
verses. I will quote two only:—

  “In the name of the Empress of India make way, Oh, lords of the
  jungle, wherever you roam; The woods are astir at the close of the
  day— We exiles are waiting for letters from home. Let the robber
  retreat, let the tiger turn tail— In the name of the Empress, the
  Overland Mail.

  With a jingle of bells as the dust gathers in He turns to the footpath
  that leads up the hill, The bags on his back and a cloth round his
  chin, And tucked in his waistband the post office bill— 'Despatched on
  this date, as received by the rail, Per runner, two bags of the
  Overland Mail.'”

India has also its postwomen: I do not know whether many of them are
runners. An old native woman in one district delivered letters for
twenty years to the satisfaction of the inhabitants. She could neither
read nor write, but her wonderful knowledge of the place and the
residents enabled her to deliver her letters with perfect correctness
after the addresses had been read out to her.

India has also its humours in correspondence. Many of the postmasters of
small village offices have a very superficial knowledge of the Queen's
English. The vagaries of Baboo-English flourish in the Indian Post
Office.

An ordinary parcel was delivered to G. Humfress, whereas it was
addressed by the sender as R. Humfress. The explanation of the
sub-postmaster was: “G. Humfress and R. Humfress are both wife and
husband to each other. They don't object to the delivery of the parcel
to their address to any one of them.”

Another explanation of an error was: “Your Honor may be right, I may be
wrong; I may be right and Honor wrong; let Honor give me back the fine,
and then at the day of resurrection, when all hearts will be open, if I
am wrong I will most gladly, Sir, return your Honor the money.” This
seems a fair offer.

Here is an application for a post in the service:—

“Sir,—Being educated in the Calcutta and by your favour passed B.A.
examination, I now venture to approach the throne of your honour's
goodness in hopes that some of the crumbs which falls from the rich
man's table may be available for me.

“Sir, I am expert in many things, and desire only to be tried to show my
agility in mathematics and other languages, being hopeful to stand on my
own bottom without help for any if I once am made glad with the object
of my desire.

“In the Bible of your honour it is said that man's life is but a span,
which is equal to five inches, also it is stated few men live at so
great an age as four scores, and as my talents are now in their blooming
prime they may not be rusted in obscurity by delay on the matter.

“Your honour will therefore kindly appoint me without further notice. As
to the post which I am to occupy, that is left to your honour's
discretion, who being an allwise man will no doubt judge it properly.”

A Superintendent once received a petition for leave. It started with
“Sir,” the second paragraph with “Honoured Sir,” the third with “Your
Honour,” the fourth with “My Lord,” and it wound up with the statement
that he knew the Superintendent was of very good family, and therefore
could not do any injustice. The writer concluded, “I am, your Royal
Highness.”

A district traffic superintendent received this telegram:

“Sir,—Here is every one dying on account of cholera. Kindly grant us
leave. Ve go by first train, in anticipation of sanction. What can poor
baboos give in exchange of his soul?”

The following are literal translations of addresses of native letters,
taken indiscriminately from unclaimed letters in the General Post
Office, Calcutta:—

“Through the favour of God—May this cover, having arrived at Burdwan,
close to Khanpookhureen, and reached Chhukka Moollah, be presented to
and read by the blessed light of my eye, Meean Booddhoo—may the Almighty
protect him.”

“To the sacred feet of the chief worshipful, the respected brother
Goozoopershad Singh. The Letter to be given at Calcutta in the direction
of Jorasanku at the house of Tarinee Sen—on arrival at which the said
Singh will receive it. The Letter is an urgent one, so let it reach
quickly.”

It will be recognised that the Returned Letter Offices of India have
their own special problems.

India has derived much advantage from the Value-Payable Post, or, as it
is sometimes spoken of, the Cash on Delivery system. The Post Office
undertakes to deliver an article, and recover from the addressee the
amount specified by the sender, and to pay this amount to him, after
deducting commission. When it was proposed, some years ago, to adopt the
system in Great Britain, there was considerable objection raised by the
trading community, and the idea was abandoned as far as this country is
concerned. But it is being extended to certain colonies, and certainly
the example of India goes to show that it supplies a demand in our
colonies and dependencies. It has created in India a new kind of retail
business, and several large firms have sprung up at the Presidency towns
which trade with constituents mostly residing in the country.

In India letters containing dutiable articles undeclared must be opened
by the addressee, possibly in some remote up-country stations in
presence of the local postmaster, and then reported to Bombay or Karachi
for assessment of duty before final delivery. The delay caused by this
rather clumsy procedure often causes great annoyance to the public, and
I have been told of a vigorous protest made by a peppery colonel, who
had received back a set of false teeth from home which had gone away for
repairs. When he was informed they must go to Karachi for assessment of
duty he became livid with rage, slapped the teeth into his mouth, and
bade the Empire to do what it could to get them out. He had been in
practical retirement while the teeth were away, and he was now going
into society again, duty or no duty.

The Post Office in South Africa works in some respects under conditions
similar to those in India. Here also the railways are mostly trunk
lines, and here also the runner is a feature of the service. His
difficulties are sometimes as great as those of his colleague in India.
A lengthy detention of the mails took place in one district because the
native runner who had charge of them was attacked on his run by two
ostriches. He had to take refuge in a small bush which the ostriches
guarded all day, and it was not until the night had set in, and the
ostriches were perhaps, like other sentries, getting sleepy, that he
escaped in the dark. Like their colleagues in India, the South African
runners do not trouble themselves with much clothing; they arrange the
mail bag on the end of a stick, and on the other they fasten their
blanket, sandals, “tin billy” for cooking, and some mealie tied on a
piece of cloth, the stick being put on the shoulder.

Among the correspondence brought into a town by a runner was found a
large scorpion measuring seven inches in length. Flooded rivers and
heavy rains interrupt the mail service, while on the other hand severe
droughts are often a trial, and we read in the Postmaster-General's
report of seven camels having to be withdrawn from service because of
exhaustion from this cause. It is not surprising to learn that motor
cars are likely to be substituted.

While excavating for the new railway buildings at Capetown recently some
workmen found a considerable number of curious old Post Office stones.
Years ago it was the regular practice with the commanders of the English
and Dutch East India Companies' fleets to leave a package of letters
under large stones on the shore to be taken to Europe by the next
home-going fleet. These stones all bear rudely carved inscriptions
asking the passer-by to “look hereunder for letters.” Then follow the
names of the commander and of the ship, with the dates of arrival and
departure. Three hundred years ago there was, of course, no settlement
of Europeans on the shores of Table Bay, but our own fleets and those of
the Dutch East India Company called there regularly.

The picture which appears on this page is of one of the stones under
which the ships' letters were placed.

[Illustration: Edward Wilson Ship Stay 1625]

I am only dealing in this chapter with special features of the postal
service which belong to each country, and I cannot, therefore, talk at
any length concerning the fine service of posts, and of activities
connected with the posts, which are administered by the South African
Government. The business, especially in the Transvaal, is of great
magnitude. Much of this would simply be the story of the British Post
Office over again.

In British Central Africa the Post Office has developed much of recent
years. Sir H. H. Johnston, K.C.B., has said of the district that it is
interesting to note the extent to which the postal service is used by
the natives themselves, who directly they are able to write in their own
language have a passion for correspondence, and they develop a childish
pleasure in affixing postage stamps. Nowhere are there such faithful
postmen or runners; they will stick to the mail bag to the point of
death. <DW64>s are admirable imitators, and in consequence they make
excellent Civil Servants, whose duty it is to write reports and letters
in the style of their official superiors. Here is a letter from a Gold
Coast postman to his postmaster:—

“DEAR MASTER,—I have the pleasure to regret to inform you that when I go
bath this morning a billow he remove my trouser. Dear master, how can I
go on duty with only one trouser? If he get loss where am I? Kindly
write Accra that they send me one more trouser, and so I catch him and
go duty. Good-day, sir. My God, how are you? Your loving corporal.”

Note how readily the man adopts not only official phrases, but what is
probably the unofficial language of his postmaster.

Leopards are more common than lions in Central Africa; but they are
usually more anxious to steal sheep or other small domestic animals than
to encounter men or women. A young telegraph operator was sent to a
lonely station in the remote regions of Central Africa. From the small
cabin which served as his dwelling and his office he could hear the roar
of lions from a distance. This having occurred several times during the
few days after his arrival, he became very much terrified, and
despatched a wire to headquarters:—

“Impossible to live here. Surrounded day and night by lions, elephants,
rhinoceroses, tigers, hyenas, wolves, crocodiles, hippopotami, &c. Beg
for transfer.”

No reply was received, but a visitor who came to see him one day
explained that this was probably because headquarters considered the
telegram ridiculous, especially as there were no wolves in that part of
Africa.

The forlorn operator immediately sent another wire. “Referring to my
wire No. X, please cancel the word wolves.” But he was not recalled.

The relations of a Central African postmaster to his native staff are
something like that of a feudal lord towards his tenants. All sorts of
petty and private matters are brought to him for decision. Here is a
report of a native official to his postmaster of a domestic difficulty
which had been brought before him. “Njokomera take Massie, daughter of
Chokabwino, to wife without pay for her. Now this court sentence
Njokomera to pay Chokabwino one cow. Cow paid—case dismissed. Japeth.”
The treatment of this difficult case should have ensured the native
official rapid promotion.

The climate of Central Africa is of course exceedingly trying to the
white man, and there is a rather well-known story of the English
applicant for a Central African postmastership asking the Colonial
Office what were the arrangements as to pension. And he received the
gruesome reply that the question had not yet arisen.

In an old country like England, where vested interests oppose the
reformer at every step he takes, where conservative influences dominate
all classes, the individual statesman can achieve comparatively little.
Go to a new country and you will find a different state of things. Even
in the adoption of modern conveniences and scientific improvements, the
colonies are often ahead of the mother country. And this is mainly due
to the fact that in these countries precedent has not been elevated to
the position of a divine commandment.

It was therefore only to be expected, that the first move towards making
Imperial Penny Postage an accomplished fact should come from the
colonies, and it was natural, and in accordance with the law which seems
to govern these things, that the old country should have been only too
willing to hold to the old ways so long as it was possible for her to do
so with dignity. To the Hon. William Mulock, K.C., Postmaster-General of
Canada in 1898, belongs the credit of having forced the hand of Great
Britain. While Great Britain was considering the matter, his Government
announced that on and from a certain date one penny would be the charge
for letters weighing two ounces from Canada to Great Britain. For other
colonies to follow suit was then only a matter of time, and in fact they
very soon adopted the new policy. It was the year following the Diamond
Jubilee that saw the great change: there had been created in people's
minds the sense of the oneness of the British Empire, and it was felt
that the most tangible way of bringing this fact permanently home to the
nation was in making 1d. the uniform charge to and from every country
which gave allegiance to the British sovereign. To many minds there must
be something wrong in the idea of the postage being 2½d. to Paris and
1d. to Quebec, but there was something which appealed to the imagination
in even this distinction. It was the privilege of the British subject.
Canada at that time was deriving no revenue from her Post Office; and it
is a fact that nations in such circumstances seem more inclined to be
liberal in Post Office matters than those which are making a profit out
of the business.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE RIVER POSTMAN.]

      Numbers of letters have to be delivered to the various
      vessels anchored within the port of London, and the postman
      is seen here on one of his rounds.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The great colonies of Australia and New Zealand have services largely
modelled on that of Great Britain. They too have sometimes improved upon
the methods of the mother country. Old age pensions were the rule in New
Zealand several years before we paid them, and the business is done
through the Post Office. New Zealand adopted in 1909 the home savings
bank safes, which two years later Great Britain began to experiment with
for the benefit of her savings bank depositors. The zeal of our colonies
for statistics and official reports is astonishing. Canada is especially
rich in such efforts, and New Zealand runs her very close. The New
Zealand Year Book is a most exhaustive publication; it gives you
statistics of everything connected with the country. You can tell at a
glance how many letters, newspapers, parcels, and postcards are
delivered to the individual New Zealander. New Zealand appears even to
take a census of its pigs.

Australia, with its scattered population and long distances to be
travelled, finds a difficulty in working the Post Office as a paying
concern, but she is not behind other colonies in the conveniences she
offers. Englishmen arrive there, and expect, as they always do in
countries other than their own, to find a lower civilisation. The
Australians delight in “pulling the legs” of these gentlemen. A Sydney
coach-driver, backed up by his passengers, induced a young man newly
arrived from England to believe that kangaroos were now used in that
district as letter carriers. “They meet the coach,” he said, “and I give
them their master's letters, which they put in their pouches and carry
home.” The freshman was incredulous, but just then a great kangaroo
hopped on to the roadway right in front of them, and stood for a moment
looking at the advancing coach. “Nothing for you to-day,” shouted the
driver, and the animal, turning, disappeared in the shrub from which it
had come.

The young Englishman was struck with wonder at the strides made in so
young a nation as Australia.

There are mountainous districts in New South Wales where the journey of
a letter carrier has to be performed at nearly 5000 feet above the level
of the sea, and this necessitates the use of ski or snow shoes. In the
Australian bush they have a quaint and picturesque custom which is for
the convenience of the squatters and miners. A wooden box is set up by
the side of one of the chief trails or pathways. Ranchers come there
from a great distance and drop in their letters. The boxes are cleared
once a week, and the postman who does this work also brings the letters
for the ranchers, and puts them in a compartment of the box set apart
for them.

In 1899 a pigeon post was established in New Zealand between Auckland
and Great Barrier Island, which contained about one hundred inhabitants.
The island is sixty miles from Auckland; there was no cable
communication, and a steamer only once a week. At the outset each bird
carried one message only, at the cost of two shillings, but subsequent
experiments proved the birds could carry four sheets of tissue paper of
quarto size, and the rate was reduced to sixpence per message of one
sheet. Wireless telegraphy is, however, displacing the pigeon as a
messenger everywhere; even the British Admiralty has discontinued its
pigeon service, which had attained a high standard of efficiency.

I have stated in a previous chapter that the whole tendency of postal
administrations all over the world is towards uniformity of method, and
this applies especially to the post offices of the Empire. The emigrant,
perhaps, feels more at home in a colonial post office than in any other
place in his new country. And this feeling is only in part due to the
fact that the post office links him up with Great Britain. It seems to
him really a bit of the old home.




                              CHAPTER XIX
                       THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL AND
                          THE PERMANENT STAFF


If the Post Office were a private or joint-stock company, the office of
Postmaster-General would be an anachronism; the Secretary would be the
Chairman of the Company, and the Assistant Secretaries would be the
Board of Management. I do not pretend that this is an accurate estimate
of what would happen if the Post Office were disestablished, but there
is no doubt that the duties of the Chairman and Board of Management in a
business undertaking correspond very closely to those performed by the
Secretary of the Post Office and his Assistants.

The State, however, controls the Post Office, and the necessity
therefore arises for the supreme head of the Department to be a member
of the Government of the day, and under this arrangement the position of
the Secretary resembles somewhat that of the general manager of a
company.

Now the part which a Postmaster-General takes in the control of
the Department depends very largely on his own inclination and
strength of character. He is a bird of passage; the changes and
chances of parliamentary life bring about a rapid succession of
Postmasters-General, and the office is often regarded in
Government circles as merely a stepping-stone to higher things.
The Postmaster-General has to defend the policy and conduct of his
Department in Parliament, and he has to pilot through the House in
which he may be sitting all measures relating to the Post Office.
He has magnificent opportunities, and as he is the largest
employer of labour in the country, his policy on all industrial
and working-class questions is a matter of national concern.

We often hear the question asked, “Does a change of Postmaster-General
make any difference to the Post Office?” A change certainly makes
sometimes a great difference to the staff. When Mr. Sydney Buxton became
Postmaster-General in 1905 he immediately took a step which has had
far-reaching consequences. He announced that he would recognise
officially the associations of the employés, and he was prepared to deal
with grievances of the staff through representatives from the
associations. That may or may not have been a step dictated by political
considerations; but my point is that it was done by the personal action
of the Postmaster-General. Moreover, the effect of this policy has been
to set an example to other large employers of labour in the country, and
in dealing with the grievances of their servants many have followed the
lead of the Post Office.

A change of Postmaster-General may also affect considerably the public.
In modern times Mr. Fawcett and Mr. Raikes have been the
Postmasters-General who perhaps made their influence felt most at the
Post Office and in the country. Mr. Fawcett brought to his duties a
knowledge of finance and a keen interest in Post Office problems. He
infused a certain enthusiasm for reforming schemes into the
administrative staff, and the years of his rule were busy and fruitful
of results. He possessed ideas of his own as to what the Post Office
might be to the nation, and his premature death was regretted by none
more keenly than by Post Office servants.

Mr. Raikes, with a personality less pleasing than that of Mr. Fawcett,
was a man of great independence and force of character, and he depended
less for his policy on the permanent staff than has been the case with
most Postmasters-General. He was confronted with many difficulties
arising out of the dissatisfaction of large numbers of the staff; but he
faced all questions with courage and determination, and he too left his
mark on the Department. It is a striking fact that Mr. Fawcett and Mr.
Raikes, who were indefatigable workers, and who both went through times
of great official anxiety, should have died in harness. I do not wish to
imply that all Postmasters-General who survive their term of office are
weak and indifferent chiefs; but these two instances show the enormous
strain which is in modern times put upon a Minister who attempts
seriously to grapple with the multifarious questions and anxieties of
his Department. It must always be remembered, too, in considering what
is expected of a Postmaster-General, that he usually comes to his duties
without any experience of the technical work and routine of the
Department, and if he takes his work very seriously he is perpetually
being obliged to acquire knowledge at very short notice. He has not only
to convince Parliament of the rightness of his policy; he has also to
argue the matter out with the permanent officials, who know all the
ropes, and can obstruct his schemes by their superior knowledge of the
practical difficulties.

Mr. Chamberlain in speaking on one occasion, when Secretary of State for
the Colonies, to a body of Civil Servants, said: “You are aware that the
human race is divided into two great categories—those who are members of
the Civil Service and those who are not. But even the Civil Service may
be subdivided into those who are permanent and non-political and those
who are political and temporary, who come like shadows and so depart. I
have a shrewd suspicion that you could do without us. But I have an
absolute conviction that we could not do without you.”

These words apply exactly to the relations of a Postmaster-General to
his staff. And the staff would reply to such words that while they do
the work whether their political chief is present or not, he has
frequently the capacity to inspire them, and he has the public
reputation which confers distinction on the Department. He can at least
modify the dull rule of the permanent official.

Many distinguished men have held the position of Secretary of the Post
Office. Of these no one was more indefatigable or rendered greater
services to the Department than Sir Francis Freeling in the early years
of the nineteenth century. To him was chiefly due the speeding up of the
mail coach service. The acceptance of the position by Sir Rowland Hill
gave a distinction to the office which it has never since lost. He was
followed by Sir John Tilley, who was the last Secretary to be appointed
from the staff of the Post Office. The men who have been appointed since
his day have usually come from posts outside in which they have made a
name. Sir Arthur Blackwood was Secretary for sixteen years, and he came
from the Treasury. The Treasury always keeps a watchful eye on the Post
Office, which is a revenue-earning Department, and the somewhat
extravagant outlay on the purchase of the telegraphs was not at all
pleasing to the Treasury. So Sir Arthur Blackwood, steeped in Treasury
traditions, was sent to watch over the Post Office. He was known outside
the Department as a religious enthusiast and an active philanthropist.
He was a man of fine presence and great personal charm—he had been known
in society in his youth as “Beauty Blackwood,” and though in matters of
religion he gave the impression of being extremely rigid and unbending,
he was as an official exceedingly wily and diplomatic. The late Sir
Spencer Walpole, who succeeded him, had previously been Governor of the
Isle of Man; he was a writer, and had published a _History of England
from 1815_.

The Assistant Secretaries have included several men who were not only
able administrators, but who were known outside the walls of the office.
In another chapter I have spoken of Mr. Frank Ives Scudamore, C.B., who
was one of the most remarkable men who ever served in the Post Office.
Mr. Herbert Joyce, C.B., was an Assistant Secretary, and he wrote a
_History of the Post Office_ which is the standard work on the subject.
Mr. F. E. Baines, C.B., was also an able administrator. He rendered
valuable services during the period of the transfer of the telegraphs
and in the organisation of the parcel post. He was an official with
ideas, and he possessed what is rare in a permanent official, the
quality of enthusiasm. He has published two books, _Forty Years at the
Post Office_ and _On the Track of the Mail Coach_, which are important
contributions to the history of the Post Office. Mr. H. Buxton Forman,
C.B., who was long associated with the foreign business of the
Department, is known also as the editor and biographer of Keats, and as
the author of several works dealing with the Keats and Shelley circles.

The Comptroller and Accountant-General is the keeper of the purse at St.
Martin's le Grand. He is practically the financial adviser of the
Postmaster-General, and his Department keeps the accounts.
Centralisation is the great feature of Post Office business, and in
nothing is this more marked than in financial matters. The postmasters'
accounts throughout the whole of the country pass through the office,
and the money needed to carry on the work is advised to the postmasters
by the Accountant-General's Department. The balance-sheet of the Post
Office is a formidable document. Take, for instance, the year ending
31st March 1910. The receipts from all sources amounted to £23,625,710,
while the expenditure was £19,845,746, and the net revenue was therefore
£3,779,964. Bear in mind that these huge sums are made up for the most
part of very small items and daily accounts, and you will have some idea
of the work performed in the Accountant-General's Department. All
salaries and pensions are also paid from this office. Mr. Herbert
Samuel, the Postmaster-General, wittily described the work of this
branch of the Service at a departmental dinner in 1911:—

“The Department was always there, watching the flow of money through the
Post Office system, ready to pounce on anything wrong, just as certain
corpuscles in our blood were ready to deal with any foreign substance in
our systems. In fact, the staff of the Accountant-General's Department
were the guardian corpuscles of the Post Office system, and without them
the Post Office could not be maintained in health and efficiency. Over
200 millions of public money passed through the hands of Post Office
officials, and it was the duty of the Department to see that it did pass
through. (Laughter.) Every year some 20 millions of money were spent on
Post Office work, and it was their duty to see that those 20 millions
were properly spent. Of course the Accountant-General's Department
itself cost a large sum of money, and he was not sure that it would not
be cheaper to be cheated. (Loud laughter.) It was the duty of their
Department to throw upon the scaring proposals of imaginative men—not
the cold light of reason, that was done by the Solicitor's
Department—(laughter)—but the even colder light of arithmetic. (Cheers
and laughter).” I quote from a report in the _Civilian_.

The Engineer-in-Chief is a man whose duties have developed enormously
during recent years. The telegraph and the telephone demand mechanical
genius and considerable scientific attainments. A huge army of engineers
is maintained to keep the telegraph and telephone plant in proper
condition, and to organise new lines. The position of Engineer-in-Chief
has been held by Sir William Preece and Sir John Gavey, and both men
have big reputations in the scientific world. Sir William Preece has
done much to popularise the knowledge of the working of electricity by
his writings.

The Surveyor's establishment is responsible for the supervision of the
post offices in town and country. Each Surveyor is responsible for a
certain district of the country, and he has to arrange for the
periodical visitation of every post office in his visit, and to have the
accounts checked. The Assistant Surveyor is “the bus jumper” of the Post
Office. The Surveyor also deals generally with the organisation of the
service in his part of the country. Anthony Trollope, whom we have
mentioned in a previous chapter, was a Surveyor of the Post Office in
Ireland for many years.

I have passed rapidly in view the various posts held by men who are the
chief official advisers of the Postmaster-General. But of course there
is a Solicitor to the Post Office, and in a business undertaking which
is constantly entering into new contracts, and dealing with claims from
the public, the position is no sinecure.

There remain the big clerical establishments of the Head Offices for me
to deal with. How can I best describe their functions in the service? In
the early part of the nineteenth century, a letter was addressed to the
Secretary of the Post Office by the Lord Salisbury of that time in these
words:—

  “Pray send me word by the Bearer whether the Place in my disposal in
  the Bye Letter Office is fit for a Gentleman's Son.

                                                              SALISBURY.

  “_20th Feb. 1820._”

The Secretary replied:—

  “MY LORD,—I consider the place in the Bye Letter Office to be fit for
  a Gentleman's Son, if that Gentleman be poor and wants to provide for
  his children. At all events it is an appointment for none but the son
  of a respectable man.

                                “I have the honour to be, &c.,
                                                      “F. FREELING.”

This rebuke to the haughty Cecil was richly merited, and Sir Francis
Freeling deserves credit for standing up for his office. His _esprit de
corps_ was aroused, and he was not the man to remain silent when
discredit was thrown on the Post Office. But the doubt as to the fitness
of the Post Office service for the sons of gentlemen exists to-day among
people who associate the Post Office only with the sticking on of stamps
and the delivery of letters. And even in the eyes of the Treasury the
Post Office has suffered because of its commercial associations, and the
great spending departments, such as the War Office and the Admiralty,
have usually received more honours and attention.

In the old days, when places in the Civil Service were filled by the
nominees of peers and politicians, there was no competition to enter the
Post Office so long as positions could be found in West End offices.
There was usually an uncomfortable suspicion in the candidate's mind
that the Post Office required a full day's work from every man. There
was a Commission of Revenue Inquiry in 1823. One of the Commissioners
questioned the Secretary of the Irish Post Office thus:—

“It appears one of the surveyors, Mr. Bushe, avowedly does no duty at
all. When he received his office, did you or not consider him as
receiving an office with certain duties attached to it?”

“Certainly.”

“Did you ever call upon him to perform his duty?”

“I did indeed call upon him to do his duty once, and his answer was that
he would never do any, for that he held his office during good
behaviour, and was determined therefore to do nothing wrong.”

“Did you suggest to him that doing nothing at all was perfectly
consistent with good behaviour?”

The Secretary's answer was evasive, and we are forced to the conclusion
that he thought Mr. Bushe's position reasonable. It appeared also that
though Mr. Bushe performed no duties, he exercised his privilege of
sending his letters free. Mr. Bushe might have had a distinguished
career in some of the other public offices at that date, and he might
have been rewarded with a title on retirement. But even in 1823 he was
out of place at the Post Office. It was evidently no place for a
gentleman's son.

The clerical establishment of the Post Office consists almost entirely
of men and women who have entered the service through open competition.
A limited number belong to the Higher Division of the Service, having
passed the examination for that body, but the majority of men clerks
have entered the service through the Second Division, and if they have
attained to higher posts it has been by seniority or merit. Promotion is
slow, and while human nature in the higher officials remains in an
imperfect state, advancement does not always fall to the most deserving.
The conflicting qualifications of seniority and merit have their own
times and seasons for application. At one time seniority is emphasised:
at another time merit: on the whole the man who possesses both has the
best chance.

The Civil Service is not a field which provides scope for a variety of
different characters and temperaments. Forty-nine out of fifty posts are
of a more or less routine character, and the men who succeed are often
those whose minds move with ease in a groove, or they are men who, by
long practice and severe discipline, have trained their minds to act
with the finish and regularity of a machine. Some of the most successful
men in the lower branches of the Service, when promoted to positions
where some initiative and diplomacy are required, are obvious failures.
The very name “permanent official” is with some people a byword for
red-tapeism, obstinacy, circumlocution, and want of imagination, and
this is often due to the fact, that owing to their training in the lower
branches, many of these men belong to the type who make excellent
servants but indifferent masters. Officialism enters into the very
tissue of their being. They have allowed it to grow upon them until it
has sucked up every trace of healthy variety or originality they may
have formerly possessed, and though they be promoted to high places and
obtain large salaries, they too often bring the service to discredit in
the eyes of the public. It is not because they do not possess sufficient
zeal: it is rather because they are righteous overmuch.

Some time ago there was a discussion in the _Grand Magazine_ entitled
“The Secret of Success in the Civil Service,” conducted by men such as
Sir George Kekewich, Sir Algernon West, Sir Spencer Walpole, Lord Welby,
and others. All these men had held high positions in the Service, and
their opinions on “the secret” ought to be of some interest to us. But
there was no agreement among them. Sir George Kekewich suggested that if
you are “socially desirable” everything is open to you. Sir Henry
Primrose thought that intelligence is useful, if it is accompanied by
good health and industry. Sir Spencer Walpole, with doubtless pleasant
recollections of the ways of postal agitators, suggested that a capacity
for expressing themselves marks successful Civil Servants. Lord Welby
advised perseverance and the patience to wait, while Sir Francis Mowatt
recommended trustworthiness and the will to succeed. And he was the only
one of the writers to suggest that the confidence of a man's fellows is
an important item. His words are wise, and I quote them: “He must
determine that his colleagues shall regard him as a good fellow. It is a
term not easy to define, but we all know what it means. A good fellow
does not give himself airs, is courteous to all he works with or comes
in contact with, helps and encourages his juniors, and sets his face
against all that he knows to be bad form.” Let us take off our hats to
Sir Francis Mowatt. We have no patience with those who talk official
platitudes in retirement.

Sir George Kekewich was, however, the only practical man of the whole
bunch. He said that “jobbery will never be eliminated from the Civil
Service, nor the most efficient men placed at its head, nor the way
opened for merit from the very bottom to the very top, until there is
established a proper Board of Promotion.”

In a previous number of the same magazine was published a series of
explanations of “Success in Literature” by prominent literary men, and
it was interesting to notice how candid and genuine and modest were the
confessions compared with those of the distinguished Civil Servants. The
Civil Servant, even when he is a retired official, seems unable to use
his pen without experiencing the necessity to be cautious and
commonplace. We can almost hear him saying to himself: “The Civil
Service, as we know it, is an organised hypocrisy. But we must not give
the show away: we must talk to the public as we used to talk to our
subordinates: we must uphold the supremacy of the copybooks.”

As far as I can make out from the admissions of the leading lights of
all the professions in this country, the Civil Service is the only
career which secures advancement from the very bottom to the very top,
as the reward of a simple observance of the law of right and wrong. The
lawyer, the artist, the literary man, and the doctor, all admit in these
discussions that a certain degree of artfulness, social influence, and
eagerness to take advantage of other folks' weakness, are conducive to
success in the different professions; it is only when we come to examine
the claims of the Civil Service that we find leading authorities
unanimous on the point, that stern and unbending uprightness is the sole
road to success. It is an astonishing claim, and it almost takes our
breath away. The air men breathe in the Civil Service seems too light
and rare to support human life. We are on the mountain top when the
Civil Service chiefs talk to us. Even the Church confesses to a wise
respect for private patronage, and curates are advised to marry into
bishops' families. But nothing helps men in the Service except diligent
attention to their duties. It was stated by an official witness before a
parliamentary commission that there was nothing, except, perhaps, the
intervention of a member of Parliament, to prevent a sorter rising to be
chief of his Department. The road exists, and to walk along it requires
only ability and perseverance. But the most that we can fairly say about
such a matter is that the thing is possible, but the immense numbers who
make up the Post Office staff render promotion into the higher ranks
accessible only for the few. The influences which keep a man down or
send him up, irrespective of merit, are as strong in the Post Office as
they are in other business undertakings. For one thing, the age limit
does not allow sufficient time for the exercise of those qualities of
patience and perseverance, which we are told in books on Self-Help are
necessary in order to attain our ambitions.

But it is easy to be cynical and to make jokes on the subject of
promotion in the Civil Service. The fact remains that in spite of all
disadvantages the clerical work of the Post Office is performed in a
very efficient manner. There is, perhaps, less wastage of time and force
in the Post Office than in any other public institution. And the Post
Office clerk has many compensations. He has definite hours of work; he
has security for leisure time and security of tenure; he has a good
annual holiday; and above all he has the promise of a pension. In some
departments his work is extremely interesting; in others it is
abominably dull. And good work is always appreciated by his chiefs and
by the public. In these commercial days we define the word
“appreciation” only in terms of £ _s._ _d._; we are in danger of losing
the full meaning of the word. The fact is, every decent man craves for
appreciation by his fellows; it is the noblest thing about him; and a
man who professes to be superior to this craving, and demands only
payment in hard cash, has the experience of centuries against him. For
this reason the _esprit de corps_ of the Post Office service is most
marked. Lord Rosebery some years ago endeavoured to make “efficiency” a
battle-cry for the nation; but so far as the clerical work of the Post
Office is concerned he was preaching to the converted. The Post Office
man simply smiled as the self-righteous man does in church when he
thinks how admirably suited the sermon is to his sinful neighbours. But
when self-righteousness is the act of a body and not of an individual it
is called _esprit de corps_, and becomes not a sin but a virtue.

If the high officials of the Post Office have included men who are known
in other than Civil Service circles, this is equally true of the
clerical establishment. Among them have been authors, artists,
sculptors, and musicians. “The extra subject” may or may not help them
in their official careers; it certainly enables them to sustain with
greater philosophy the routine and the disappointments of office life.
Mr. Alfred Parsons, R.A., was a Savings Bank clerk early in his career;
so was during many years Mr. W. W. Jacobs, the author of _Many Cargoes_
and _Sea Urchins_.

A growing proportion of the permanent clerical staff consists of
women. At present they are restricted mainly to the account work of
the Department; they keep the ledgers of the Savings Bank, they do
work in the Money Order and Postal Order offices, and in the
Accountant-General's Department. Their scales of pay are as a rule
considerably lower than those of the men clerks, and hitherto they
have been employed by the State mainly on account of economy. But the
women have great ambitions; they have an association, the chief demand
of which is equal pay for men and women, and entrance to the Service
by the same examination. The advance and success of the woman's
movement have had a great influence on the ambitions and hopes of the
women clerks, and female employment in the Post Office is probably
entering on a new phase. The economical advantage to the State is
already not so marked as it used to be, as the commencing salaries of
large numbers of the male staff have been reduced, and there is one
department at least where the women in their earlier years of service
are paid higher salaries than are large numbers of the men. If this
latter policy is pursued it means the beginning of a revolution and
the upsetting of the old-fashioned social order. The women do their
work excellently, and they only ask to be allowed to establish their
claim to be able to perform the highest duties that are given to
clerks in the Post Office. The women also, it will be seen, are
becoming possessed by _esprit de corps_, the note of the permanent
staff of the General Post Office.

I have only one word to say in conclusion. _Esprit de corps_ is a virtue
I have claimed for the permanent staff; but this virtue, like all
others, has its defects, and one of these is the state of mind which it
induces in an official, to look at his Department as an organisation
which has already done a maximum amount of good for the public. If you
mildly suggest that much remains to be accomplished, he is apt to regard
your remark as a want of confidence in himself. It is this attitude on
his part which often explains the bad reputation which the term
“permanent official” occupies in the minds of the public.




                               CHAPTER XX
                          THE HEAD POSTMASTER


The supporters of an Established Church have often argued that the
presence in any town or village of a State official pledged to the
promotion of righteousness and the spiritual life is a national asset,
and that it is to the advantage of every citizen to have a centre of
sweet reasonableness provided for him at the rectory or vicarage. It is
certainly a tradition of English country life to look to the clergyman
of a parish to take the lead in many local matters, especially in those
of a philanthropic character. But there is also in every village and
town another State official who in consequence of the varied nature of
his duties is the guide and counsellor of the public in a number of
their temporal concerns, and who is by virtue of his office appealed to
constantly on matters which lie far outside his official labours. For he
is always “On his Majesty's Service,” and he is expected to live up to
that position, to be a walking _Encyclopedia Britannica_, a local _Who's
Who?_ a financial adviser, a boarding and lodging house agent, and to
know everything, in fact, which the clergyman does not know, and is not
expected to know. The Post Office is regarded not so much as a centre of
sweet reasonableness as a centre of light and information which can be
applied to without money and without price. The growth in the importance
of the office of postmaster has been continuous since the earliest days
of the Service, and this is of course easily explained by the story of
the Post Office which I have been telling. At first, as I have already
pointed out, the postmaster was usually an innkeeper. He provided horses
for the King's posts, and it has to be admitted that for this purpose he
selected as a rule the worst that were in his possession. The duty of
receiving and despatching letters was left to a waiter or chambermaid,
and frequently, as there was no separate place set apart for Post Office
work, letters were sorted in the bar. A surveyor reported on one
occasion that “the head ostler was often the postmaster's prime minister
on matters relating to the mails.” When the mail coaches were put on the
road, it was felt desirable that the innkeepers should no longer be
postmasters, and a change was gradually introduced in the conditions
under which the office was held. For a great number of years in most
towns of the kingdom the postmastership was held by a local tradesman,
and he carried on his own business at the same time, just as
sub-postmasters do at the present day.

The change was certainly for the benefit of the public, and the mail
service was treated more seriously by the postmaster. In some ways he
was a more important public servant than he is to-day. In the days
before telegraphy he was also a central news agency. A circular was
issued to all postmasters in 1812 in these terms:—

                       “TO ALL POSTMASTERS, G.P.O.

  “_April 1812._

  “It has long been an instruction to many of the postmasters and agents
  that they should transmit to me for the information of his Majesty's
  Postmaster-General an immediate account of all remarkable occurrences,
  that the same may be communicated if necessary to his Majesty's
  principal Secretaries of State, and you will not fail to act in
  conformity thereto. Your assured friend,

                                    “FRANCIS FREELING, _Secretary_.”

That injunction has become a dead letter, and the most that a postmaster
is expected to do in this direction is to note any references in the
local press to matters relating to the Department, and to send copies of
the newspapers to the Secretary, General Post Office.

With the growth of Post Office business, the Head Postmaster has become
a Civil Servant: he is now provided with an office of his own, and he
usually gives up his time to the Service. A Head Postmaster is not
allowed to interest himself in any business, such as banking, insurance,
or parcels delivery, which would bring him into competition with his own
Department. Unlike the centre of sweet reasonableness at the vicarage,
he is compelled to be absolutely neutral at election times, and the
postmaster is expected at all times to be discreet and guarded in the
expression of his political views. Sometimes, therefore, it happens that
the centre of sweet reasonableness is really at the post office and not
at the vicarage.

In the old days a knowledge of horses was the chief requirement in a
postmaster, but year by year additions have been made to his work, and
he is now required to be not only a smart business man but to know a
great deal concerning many different activities. He is responsible for
the despatch and delivery of the mail service in his district, but he
also has to look after a large banking business, including money order
and postal order systems: he has to know something of telegraphy and of
the telephone, and in addition to his Post Office business he does work
for the Inland Revenue, such as the sale of Inland Revenue and Fee
Stamps and the granting of dog, gun, establishment, motor, and game
licences. And the latest duties which have been placed upon him are the
payment of old age pensions and the working of a portion of the National
Insurance Scheme.

At the Head Office in London every official has to specialise more or
less, but a Head Postmaster cannot afford to do this. In addition to the
various duties I have mentioned, he has to manage a large staff of men,
to preserve discipline, and to see that the sub-postmasters of his
district are performing their duties properly.

Undoubtedly the status of the postmaster has risen considerably, and in
large towns he occupies a high and influential position among the men of
business. His immediate superior as a rule is the surveyor of his
district, but the postmasters of the largest towns in the United Kingdom
are their own surveyors. These postmasterships are the prizes of the
professions, and they include Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester,
Glasgow, Bristol, Leeds, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Belfast, Cardiff,
Nottingham, Sheffield, and Hull. The salaries attached to these posts
vary from £725 to £1000, and the postmasters are frequently Civil
Servants who have passed the highest examinations on entering the
Service, and they are invariably men of superior education, ability, and
experience. Yet so long does it take to root out an old association of
ideas in the mind of the British public, that a postmaster is still
regarded in the minds of many people as merely a man who sells stamps
and perhaps fancy articles.

Let me take the city of Liverpool as an illustration of how the growth
of Post Office business has raised the importance of the postmaster. In
the year 1775 there was only one postman in the town, and by the year
1900 the numbers had risen to 800. It is true that in 1775 the staff was
already considered inadequate. A petition was sent up to London in that
year asking for another postman, but it was not granted. The reply,
however, did not deal with the necessities of the case, but declined to
accede to the petitioners' request on the ground that “not more than one
letter carrier has yet been allowed to any one town in England.” So
firmly established even then was the power of precedent in the official
mind. In the year 1839 the weekly number of letters and newspapers dealt
with at Liverpool amounted to 103,201, and in 1900 the number had risen
to 4,823,694. Of course, all the other large towns in the Kingdom could
show similar increases in proportion to their size, and these figures
take no account of the increases in other kinds of Post Office business
which have been equally significant.

Let me take as another illustration the city of Bristol. Here we have a
city which in the race for priority of position has been “passed over”
by younger and more pushful rivals like Liverpool and Hull. Yet the
growth of the Post Office business here has been extraordinary. There is
an old official record which consists of an application by a postmaster
of Bristol for an increase in his salary. The request was granted by the
Postmaster-General in the following minute, which is dated 13th December
1686: it is addressed to the Governor of Bristol. “You are therefore of
opinion that the said salary (£50) is very small considering the expense
the petitioner is att and his extraordinary trouble, Bristoll being a
greate Citty, but you say that you doe not think all the things he setts
down in the aforesaid accompt ought to be allowed him, the example being
of very ill consequence, for (as you informe me) you doe not allow
either candles, pack-thread, wax, ink, penns or paper to any of the
postmasters, nor office rent, nor returns of money; you are therefore of
opinion that tenn pounds per annum to his former salary of £50 will be a
reasonable allowance, and the petitioner will be therefore well
satisfied: these are therefore to pray and require you to raise his
salary from £50 to £60 accordingly.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

             _Photo_                       _Clarke & Hyde._
                          THE SORTING SCHOOL.

      This pupil is busy learning general sorting—that is,
      dividing the mail into districts. Notice the map of England
      and the names of the London railway termini in front of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The General Post Office has altered very much in its methods since those
days, but the care with which it evidently sifted a claim for increase
of pay two hundred years ago is equally marked to-day if we are to
believe the almost unanimous verdict of Post Office servants. Certainly
this particular concession does not appear to have been extravagant. We
are reminded indeed of the waiter's remark to David Copperfield, “Never
mind the ink; I lose by that.” The Bristol Post Office has advanced
since those days. Even so late as 1855, the staff numbered only 80; at
the present time it is considerably over 1500.

The smaller towns show similar increases in proportion to their
population. Even where the population is stationary, there is increase:
the post office is more in request by the inhabitants. Rarely, indeed,
is there a tale to tell of decline. There is one curious instance in
recent years of a Head Office being reduced to the rank of a sub-office
on account of bad times, and it is curious because the explanation lies
back in the mail coaching days. Bawtry is the first town in Yorkshire,
on the Great North Road, and it was here that in olden times the High
Sheriff of the county was accustomed to meet kings and queens on their
journey to the north, welcome them to Yorkshire, and escort them through
the county. The town flourished in the coaching days: it has a
magnificent wide street, fine old inns, but it never adapted itself to
the modern conditions. Scarcely a house has been added to the town
during sixty years. Nevertheless Bawtry struggled gamely on as a Head
Post Office on the strength mainly of its former importance, and
possibly because of a sentimental objection at headquarters to deal
hardly with a town distinguished in Post Office history. But facts had
to be faced, and in the Post Office Circular of the 13th March 1900,
sentence was pronounced in these cold words: “On and from the 15th March
Bawtry will be reduced to the rank of a railway sub-office under
Doncaster.” “The calamity of railways” had been Bawtry's misfortune, and
there was something distinctly cruel in her new designation.

But almost everywhere in Great Britain the story is quite different: new
post offices have to be created, old post offices have to be enlarged,
and the importance of the postmaster increases. It is his own fault if
he does not take a high position in the business circles of the town
which he serves.

The postmaster is in all matters of discipline given wide powers, but in
questions relating to the business of his office, he has to be guided
largely by rules and regulations and by instructions from headquarters.
The reason for this is obvious, because in a big Department like the
Post Office the first requirement is uniformity of practice, and it
would never do for one way of dealing with a matter to be in force at
Bristol, another at Liverpool, and yet another at London. But it is the
same in the Post Office as in all other big undertakings; everything
depends upon the quality of the man who holds the position, and the Head
Office in London retains the right to control his actions. One man can
be trusted with responsibilities, another requires leading strings, and
the machinery of the Department is flexible enough to deal with both men
according to their needs.

I repeat myself when I draw attention to the close relationship which
exists between the public and the Post Office. Indeed the story of the
Post Office can best be told sometimes by letting the public speak for
themselves. A large number of folk have probably very confused ideas of
what the regular duties of a postmaster consist, but they know he is
approachable: news and correspondence go through his hands, and in their
eyes he has taken all knowledge for his province. In no other way can I
explain the extraordinary applications for help and information which
are constantly received by postmasters.

If a man wishes to arrange for his marriage to take place he applies
without hesitation to the clergyman of the parish or to the registrar of
the district, but if he wants to know of a lady whom he can marry, he
more frequently consults the postmaster. The following is not by any
means an exceptional application of this kind:—

“DEAR SIR,—Enclosed you will please find a letter which I would like for
you to give some young lady or gent—lady preferred—who you think would
like a correspondent in this country. Will correspond on topics of
general interest.”

We all recognise this as an ingenious beginning of a romance; in its
earliest and most artful phase it is even comparatively indifferent to
sex.

A good postmaster must of course be domesticated and know the comforts
of home. A lady wrote to the postmaster of Goole in these terms: “Not
knowing of a good Registry Office for maids in Goole, I am writing to
ask you whether you happen to know of a good cook general who is wanting
a situation. I am wanting a thoroughly respectable trustworthy girl, age
about twenty-four years; must be able to do plain cooking well and be
clean in work and person, good at getting up in the morning, and small
amount of washing done at home, such as house cloths and servants'
underlinen; other things go to a laundress, including caps and print
dresses.”

A postmaster is allowed wide discretion in replying to such letters, and
the answer to this correspondent was that the postmaster had been for
years in search himself of a woman of the age of twenty-four who could
do plain cooking, get up in the morning, and not object to “small amount
of washing done at home,” and when he had found her he claimed the right
to the first refusal.

The postmasters at seaside resorts are constantly appealed to by
intending visitors, not on the postal facilities of the various places,
but on other matters which are presumed to come under the observation of
the Post Office. For instance: “Miss P. would feel much obliged if the
postmaster would kindly inform her if dogs have still to be muzzled at
Eastbourne, and whether the order is likely to be taken off soon. Also
if the band plays regularly once or twice a day on the parade.”

A gentleman entered a seaside post office and demanded to see the
postmaster. He then asked this unoffending individual if he could cash a
cheque for £10, tell him the best hotel in the place, and direct him to
the nearest hairdresser.

Another postmaster, who by the way was a church-warden and a reader of
the _Daily News_, received this letter from a total stranger:—

“The Postmaster,—Sir, will you kindly send one of your selections for
the Grand National as a trial, and if satisfactory I will pay you.”

It is difficult to understand what was in the writer's mind when he
sought this information at the Post Office.

Other inquiries stick closely to Post Office business, but are perhaps
even more unreasonable.

                      “TO THE POSTMASTER OF HERTFORD

  “DEAR SIR,—I am a boy fourteen years old, and I live in a small town
  in New Jersey on the Delawar river. My father is a horse doctor, and
  has practised medicine for several years. Several boys of the place
  have been saving old cancelled stamps to see how many they could get
  of different kinds, and I thought I could save them too. But as I have
  just commenced I have not many different kinds, when it came into my
  head to send to England, as I knew they spoke the same language, so I
  got my geography and selected your place on the map. Now I would like
  you to get me all the different kinds of stamps you can. I would have
  put in postage for you to return your letter, but your stamps are
  different, and I know it will be useless, but I will send you American
  stamps or any favour you may ask. Hoping you will regard my letter as
  a true one.

  “I remain to be your friend as soon as possible. Please let me know to
  the best of your knowledge whether Wales, Scotland, and Ireland use
  the same kind of stamp. Hope we may meet some time before we die.”

Our cousins in America are constantly appealing to postmasters for
information.

The postmaster of Campbeltown received this letter:—

  “DEAR SIR,—In the month of August 1774 the heroine Flora Macdonald
  sailed from your village in the ship _Balliol_ for America. Can you
  and will you be kind enough to answer the following questions? What
  day in August did she sail? How many emigrants with her? How did she
  come from Skye to Campbeltown? What day did she land in America? Was
  it on Cape Fear? What was the name of the war-vessel in which she
  returned to Scotland? What year? Where did she land? What was the date
  of Kingsborough's return?

  “I beg to say I am writing a history of the Highlanders in America, in
  which I shall attempt an extended sketch of Flora in this country.”

But even when correspondents write on Post Office business they are
almost as hopeless. The postmaster of Enniskillen received this
communication: “I wonder if you will be so kind as to address and mail a
letter to me for a party I wish to reach and have forgotten their
address and even their name.” All that the man knew about “the party”
was that she lived with an aunt and was engaged to be married. It was
impossible, at least in Enniskillen, to locate a lady with so
conventional a record.

Questions of this kind are much easier: “I am taking the liberty of
writing to ask if you will kindly refer me to some good responsible
forage merchants, fruit salesmen or commission agents, greengrocers,
&c., as I am desirous of ascertaining information relative to turnips
(principally), potatoes and apples, and oblige—Your's, &c.”

The postmaster of Southsea saw a week's work before him if he attempted
to answer this letter:—

  “DEAR SIR,—Please send me addresses of furnished apartments and say
  terms per week for one sitting-room and three bed-rooms. Also send me
  a cheap guide to Southsea, giving a plan of the streets, &c. What is
  the area and width of the marine lake? Are there good rowing boats
  with sliding seats and outriggers on the lake and is there a good
  rowing club? If so, give address of the club secretary. Can good
  bicycles be hired? Is there a good covered riding school for
  horse-riding? If so, give name and address and terms for riding
  lessons. Can first-class saddle horses be hired? If so, say the usual
  terms per hour and give the names and addresses of the best livery
  stables. Is the beach sand or shingle? and is there good sea-bathing?
  Is there a school where type-writing and shorthand is taught, and can
  good male or female clerks be obtained who are first-class
  type-writers? What salary per week do they usually get? Can electric
  baths be obtained? What is the usual charge? Is the winter and spring
  very mild, and is Southsea recommended by the doctors? Do you have
  much snow or wind in winter and spring? Is there a good gymnasium?
  Please give an address. Reply by letter. No post cards, please.

                                                               F. N.

  “P.S.—Generally speaking, are people satisfied with Southsea when they
  come?”

It is refreshing, after reading this exhaustive examination paper, to
come across a simple and courteous demand from a Greenock sportsman to
the postmaster of Dunfermline:—

                                                           “GRINOCK.

  “KIND SIR,—Will you be so kind too let me no the date of Dunfermalane
  raises is and you will oblige me.

                                                             “E. N.”

Or even an honest inquiry such as this, of the postmaster of
Weston-super-Mare:—

“Is there an opening hear for a practical tripe and cow-heel dresser,
and to cater for the public generally in reasonable price dinners?
Should want a place for poultry and piggeries outside the town.”

Piggeries _outside_ the town are to be encouraged, and we hope the
postmaster did not throw cold water on the enterprise.

These letters sufficiently illustrate the view which is often taken of
the uses of a postmaster. And yet there is reason in the attitude of
some of these correspondents. The need is evidently felt for a public
inquiry agent in every town who will supply local information. Many
seaside and inland resorts for visitors have now an officer who is
advertised to deal with inquiries; but in hundreds of places the man or
woman who seeks information can think of nobody to ask except the
postmaster. It is a tribute to the way that the Post Office links itself
up with the lives of the people, and nobody but a very churlish
postmaster would do other than his best to help his correspondents.
Still the public ought clearly to understand that such services are not
included in a postmaster's duties, and the inquiries might as reasonably
be addressed to the Chief of the Fire Brigade or the Lord-Lieutenant of
the county. But perhaps these gentlemen already receive their share of
miscellaneous attention.

There are people who think that in a huge undertaking like the Post
Office, which works largely by routine, personalities don't count for
much. There are others who think that by minute organisation the success
of a system can be guaranteed. The human factor, however, still has to
be reckoned with, and the city or town is fortunate which has a wise and
sensible postmaster. It has been said that “the most depressing thing in
the world is a dull person administering faithfully an elaborate system;
and one of the most inspiring sights is an original man making the best
of an imperfect system.” The Head Postmasters of the General Post Office
include both kinds of men, and sometimes when we are blaming the system
it is the man who is at fault. And when we sometimes blame the man he is
really doing his best with the system.




                              CHAPTER XXI
                        THE VILLAGE POST OFFICE


All post offices other than a Head Office are called sub-offices. The
definition embraces busy town offices as well as the village post
office. The sub-office is usually managed by a man or woman who has
other visible means of support. In the vast majority of cases the
sub-office is a shop. And comprising as the ranks of sub-postmasters do
all sorts and conditions of men, it is not surprising if we find more
variety among this class of official than among the Head Postmasters.
The Head Postmaster is a Civil Servant; he has a tradition to keep up,
and he looks at official matters with a sort of professional eye. The
sub-postmaster, on the other hand, has, as it were, a foot in both
worlds, the commercial and the official, and he comes to his duties with
the training not of the Civil Servant but of the local tradesman. I
sometimes think that it is a good thing for the Post Office service that
so many of its servants should have this double interest; they are in
close touch with the public, they know its peculiarities across the
counter, and they are less likely to be strangled by red tape. The
sub-postmaster is often, of course, a highly educated man, and can take
a high place among any society of business men in his district; on the
other hand, in a small district or village he may be a man of slight
education who is only a degree above the working classes. A
sub-postmaster is often very human and unsophisticated; he is not
trained by the Civil Service Commissioners to write reports in proper
official style, and he often shocks the staid officials at headquarters
by the directness of his style. And considering the stock from which
sub-postmasters are often drawn, it is sometimes astonishing how well
the work of the Department is performed. For most of the duties proper
to a Head Office belong also to a sub-office. The responsibility is
perhaps less, but the sub-postmaster has frequently to be efficient in
all classes of Post Office work, to be an accountant, experienced in
banking business, and to know a good deal about telegraphy.

We are growing accustomed to the fact that any letter we write to the
remotest hamlet in the Kingdom is certain to be delivered at the
earliest possible moment; but it is only within a comparatively late
period that this has actually happened. Up to 1764 the Post Office
carried letters to post towns only, but did not undertake to deliver
them at the homes of the addressees, and in London only was there a
local post. This was the famous Penny Post, originally founded by
Dockwra in 1680, and soon afterwards taken over by the Crown. In 1764
authority was given for the establishment of this Penny Post within the
limits of any city or town, and thirty years later it was provided that
any Penny Post might be extended beyond the former limit of ten miles
from the town in which it was set up. But such posts were in fact only
set up in about half-a-dozen of the largest towns in the Kingdom, and at
that time neither benefited nor were intended to benefit the rural
districts.

At the beginning of the nineteenth century there were no rural or
village posts. Letters were conveyed by post to towns of any
considerable size, and were fetched from these places by arrangement on
behalf of the people living in the surrounding villages. Probably a
village generally employed its own messenger, paying him in some cases a
fixed sum as wages, and in others a penny or more on every letter
carried. Sometimes a pauper was employed for this work. Wealthy people
made their own arrangements. In 1801 the Post Office made efforts to
reach the villages, but right down to 1840 the service was fitful and
irregular, and was not uniform. The Government of Sir Robert Peel in
1843 decided that the principle on which rural posts should be
established should be based simply upon the number of letters for each
locality. “All places, the letters for which exceed 100 a week, should
be deemed entitled to the privilege of a receiving office and a free
daily delivery of their letters.” In 1850 this rule was still further
simplified, and the rule was now that a post should be established when
it would pay its way. Modifications of even this rule took place in
successive years, and the network of rural posts extended so much that
in 1862 the proportion of letters delivered to the addressees was
estimated to reach 94 per cent. In 1871 the Postmaster-General was able
to announce that he hoped “the time is not distant when a free delivery
at least two or three times a week will be provided for every house in
the country, however remote.” But it was twenty years before this pious
hope began to be fulfilled. At the end of 1892 it was estimated that
there were still about 32,000,000 letters a year not delivered by the
Post Office. Nearly 8,000,000 letters were in the next year brought into
free delivery, and the work of extension went on gradually until the day
of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee in 1897, when it was announced that a
regular delivery of letters would be given to every house in the
Kingdom. We can now scarcely understand any other state of things to be
endurable for a day.

The rural sub-postmaster has had enormously increased duties thrown upon
him in recent years, and it is possible that his pay has not kept pace
with his responsibility. The Department naturally takes advantage of the
fact that the work of the Post Office is a valuable addition to any
business, and that a man is provided with a big advertisement for his
particular trade when he is given the Post Office business. At any rate,
there is usually a demand in every place for the privilege of running
the Post Office. Still, the sub-postmaster is human, and he does not
always admit the justice of this kind of indirect payment. Towards the
end of 1907, many sub-postmasters were eagerly looking out for the
Report of the Parliamentary Committee on their condition. Something good
was expected. In January 1908, a new book of Rules for sub-postmasters
was issued and distributed, and one sub-postmaster in a remote country
district came to the conclusion that the book was the long-looked-for
Report, and fresh from great disappointment, and, as will be seen,
breathless with indignation, he wrote to his Head Postmaster as follows:
at the end of his letter he placed his first full stop.

“Sir I have read the new book of rules all through I see by it that sub
postmasters has gained nothing but lost all the privileges they had the
cannot speak of any thing the cannot speak for a member of parlment
county counceler or anything the cannot sell anything that does not
belong to the Post Office the cannot take an agency from any one the
belive that himself and his place all belongs to them the expect him to
look after Postboys mail car bad coin watch everything night and day
that belongs to the Post Office I have to keep the office opened for
twelve hours every day do everything attend to every one no one person
fit to do this or do what the Book expects them to do we have not sunday
to ourselves we must stay till four o'clock in the evening to prepare
the bag for the mail car we get no allowance for holidays one of us must
stop at home from church on Sunday on our turn to attend for the car
bees nearly always late on Sunday and gets no money for it I do not see
how the expects us to do it for nine pence a day or how can the expect a
man to live on it would be a fine thing for one to be a postman I would
have more pay and clothes when my three hours was over I could go where
I liked and had Sunday to myself there is no one under the goverment so
bad paid as country sub offices and still we have more to do than any
other one for we have to tie parsels rite the direction on letters and
parsels for most of the people for the do not no how last year I had to
sit up till 11 o clock at night riting after the 5 35 car came I had 34
regestered letters to compair with the list and check them put my
Initels after every one of them fill 34 receats 34 counterfoils so the
do not look to whet we have to do to prepare everything for the Postmen
next morning we have to handle letters from every one take their money
no matter what desease or sickness is in there house still we are not
allowed a doctor if anything happens we are not alowed anything it is
nearly a shame to be a country sub postmaster if the expect to do work
they should pay us I have to pay a man 12 shillings a week for 6 days
and he will oneley work 9 hours for me in summer and about 5 in Winter
so I see that nothing is left us but to resign as it will pay no one we
are not alowed to show our greevances in the press to the publick or
through a member of parliment we must leave all to them no less than a
pound a week would Pay to keep up to the new rules Keep marking time for
Postmen marking and dating everything in the new book they should give
us fair Play we waited with patience thinking the Commission would do
something for us but it made us worse it must be there was no one to
give evedence for us we have pens ink cealing wax too I think I have
rote some of our Grievence to you as you are onely one left to us to
write to your obedient servant.”

Here we have the duties and disabilities of a rural sub-postmaster all
described picturesquely in his own words, and the only defence we can
offer for the authorities is that the man has not resigned, and would
regard it as the greatest injustice of all if he were relieved of his
duties.

Yet sub-postmasters do deserve our sympathies. They endure much from an
irritable and impatient public. Occasionally, the suffering becomes
articulate. “I beg,” says a sub-postmaster, “to report that the man
called at the office to-day. I handed him the book, and complied with
your instructions. _I hope I shall never see him again._” We can almost
imagine the painful scene at the counter.

We are often ready enough to complain of the incivility and indifference
of the man or woman at the post office, but we don't realise how trying
we are to the much-harassed officials. A sub-postmaster was asked to
explain why he accepted irregularly a deposit in an account which had
already exceeded the limit. His reply showed that at least red-tape
methods do not prevail at his office, even though moral courage may be
lacking in the postmaster. “In order to avoid unpleasantness which
appeared to be imminent, I accepted the deposit.”

Sometimes so involved and difficult is the work put upon a slow-minded
country sub-postmaster, that it is often a case of the blind leading the
blind. A shaggy and a shambling man, obviously an agriculturist, entered
a rural post office. He knew all about crops, and was firmly convinced
that every sort of weather was bad for them. But he was weak in finance.
However, it had come to his ears that it would be a sound scheme to
invest money in the local post office. Therefore he entered the curious
building—half grocer's shop, half village club, and perfumed with
cheddar—that served as a post office. The sub-postmaster explained the
system to the man.

“But, mister, can I withdraw my money whenever I want to?”

“Of course you can, fat'ead,” was the answer. “You can drore it
ter-morrer ... if you give a fortnight's notice.”

The habit of talking to the people in their own idioms is to be
commended. In rural districts it inspires more confidence, and is better
understood than official regulations.

The sub-office is frequently an hereditary institution. It has been in
the same family for generations. There is a sub-office at Churchill near
Enniskillen, in Ireland, which has passed down in direct succession from
father to son since the year 1750. In 1882 the salary was £3 a year, but
the Postmaster-General specially increased the amount to £12 in
consideration of the lengthened period in which the office had been held
by members of the family.

The Post Office in Ireland in old days was served light-heartedly
compared with these strenuous times. I have read in an old newspaper of
1821 how the postmaster of Lismore, aged ninety-seven, and almost old
enough to know better, won a wager. He travelled to Fermoy in a
Dungarvan oyster tub, drawn by a pig, a badger, two cats, a goose, and a
hedgehog, with a red nightcap on his head, a pig-driver's whip in one
hand, and a cow's horn for musical purposes in the other. In these days
he would have had to furnish a written explanation to the Secretary.
Possibly it would have been similar to that furnished by a modern
sub-postmaster, who had been accused of certain vagaries in the
performance of his duties: “I know I am not Perfect by a Long Way, but
it does not make it any Better. I was not Drunk because I hadd no Bear.”
The explanation of another respecting the misconduct of one of his
subordinates was: “As Mr. —— is generally a careful officer, and was
probably not on duty at the time the error was made, he has been let off
with a caution.”

The Post Office has employed women in its service since the earliest
times. The sub-postmistress of the village is often a most useful
officer. She sometimes takes her duties more seriously than the man; she
likes the opportunity of managing things which the office gives her: the
sense of being “On his Majesty's Service” helps her to magnify her
office. And she is usually quite refreshingly free from officialism. One
of their number was asked in an official memorandum to state why she had
not yet furnished an explanation of an irregularity a few weeks back,
and she replied: “I was too angry with myself to do anything.” What need
was there of an official caution in face of such sincere repentance!

But the sub-postmistress is often extremely strong-minded and masterful,
especially if she is of mature years, and it is extremely difficult for
either her chiefs or the public to move her in any course she has
adopted. The Department was informed by one lady that she was about to
be married, and when she was asked the usual questions whether she would
remain the housekeeper, she replied magnificently: “I have made no
change. I hold entire dominion over the present post office premises,
otherwise there would be no marriage.” The proposal scene in this case
must have been shorn of a good deal of the romance one usually
associates with such experiences. Sometimes the sub-postmistress marries
one of her male assistants, and she is in the proud position of being
able to extract written explanations from, and to administer cautions
to, her husband. And yet there have been instances where the public
service did not suffer by this arrangement, nor was the home life
apparently put much out of gear. Sometimes the sub-postmaster marries a
female assistant, and I read in a service paper this touching confession
of one of the inconveniences arising from such an act: “My wife is also
my first assistant, and during the first three years of our married life
we obtained our holidays together. Last year, however, exception was
taken to this by the Surveyor, who stated my wife ought to take charge
during my absence on annual leave. I appealed to the Secretary, _and the
decision went against me_.” I think “the decision went against _me_” is
a very pretty touch.

The sub-postmistress is of course often one of the village folk herself,
and she is frequently exposed to gossip and unworthy suspicions. The
lady who had charge of a certain village post office was strongly
suspected of tampering with parcels entrusted to her care. If anything
went wrong with them in any part of the Kingdom she was to blame. One
day a rosy-cheeked youngster, dressed in his best clothes, entered the
post office and carefully laid a huge slice of iced cake on the counter.

“With my sister the bride's compliments, and will you please eat as much
as you can.”

The sub-postmistress smiled delightedly. “How very kind of the bride to
remember me. Did she know of my weakness for wedding-cake?”

“She did,” answered the youngster coolly, “and she thought she'd send
yer a bit of it this afternoon, just to take the edge off yer appetite
before she posted boxes to her friends.”

Rightly or wrongly the rural post office is supposed to know all the
secrets and scandals of the neighbourhood. When private information
leaks out, it is usually the post office which is suspected. And
especially is this the case when there are women at the post office.
Sometimes the interest in the affairs of the village is quite open. A
woman enters a rural post office.

“Anything for me?” she asks.

_Rural Postmaster._ I don't see nothen'.

_Woman._ I was expectin' a letter or postcard from Aunt Spriggs tellin'
when she was comin'.

_Rural Postmaster_ (_calling to his wife_). Did you see a postcard from
Mrs. Hayfork's aunt, Sally?

_His Wife._ Yes; she's comin' on Thursday.

In the _Christian World_ of the 20th September 1901 there appeared an
excellent description of the village post office in an article entitled
“The Scottish Coast Village.” “The real centre of the world for us is
the village post office. It does everything except the one thing which
is supposed to be the duty of a post office—distribute the letters. That
is done from a neighbouring village by a five-mile-an-hour-easy postman,
who when he has delivered our letters and returned to his own office a
mile and a half away has still a thirteen-mile tramp amongst the
scattered farms. Summer and winter, through snow and mud, in burning
heat or freezing cold, he fulfils his daily task, and has never missed a
mail nor caught a cold.

“But if our post office does not distribute the letters it would be
difficult to name anything else which it will not do. There the chance
tourist leaves his bicycle and waterproof while he looks round the
village and has a dip in the sea; thither turns the inquirer after lost
property or the fine weather which will not come; groceries, draperies,
stationery, tobacco, all are found among its exhaustible stores;
anything will be provided within reasonable time, and 'prescriptions are
carefully made up' at forty-eight hours' notice from the country town
twelve miles away. The postmaster and shop-keeper is one of those
willing, handy men, often found in such positions, who are the acting
representatives of Providence to the helpless visitor. He will take any
amount of trouble for you; never loses his temper amid the
thousand-and-one inquiries which assail him all the day long; and gives
up part of his Sabbath rest—well earned—to leading the singing of the
village choir. This he does with an accompaniment of the foot which
ensures excellent time, though in itself a little disconcerting.”

There are hundreds of village post offices which would answer to this
description; we all go straight to the post office when in a strange
place, if we are in the slightest difficulty. The post office is there
“On his Majesty's Service” to get us out of trouble. Unhappy is the
village without a post office. Yet there is, or was until recently, a
village on the edge of the Norfolk marshlands where there was no doctor
for seven miles, no telegraph office for delivery within five miles, and
where, until a very late date, the only village post-box was a slit in a
hollow elm against the churchyard. In such villages as this, the news of
the world comes through the postman. If he has no letter to deliver in
the place, the news as well as he stops away.

Writing in 1897, the author of the delightful _Pages from a Private
Diary_ spoke of the effect of the increase of postal facilities on the
sluggish-minded country-folk.

“People who are accustomed to the business-like promptitude of the young
men and maidens in town offices have little idea of the casual way in
which things are managed with us. A month or two since, having to
register a letter containing a small present for the golden wedding of
an old friend which had reached me too late for our own despatch, I
drove to a village on the railway where the mails leave a few hours
later. The following dialogue ensued:—

“_Postmaster._ Do you know how old I am?

“_I._ No; are you seventy-five?

“_Postmaster._ Seventy-five! I'm as old as Mr. Gladstone. Don't look it,
don't I? No, I mayn't look it, but I am. I've been postmaster here for
fifty years or more. Yes, I ain't so young as I have-a-been. Good-day,
sir.

“_I._ But I want a letter registered.

“_Postmaster._ Registered! Well, I hardly know how. You see, I'm an old
man now. Oh yes! I've registered 'em in my day, but I don't somehow like
the responsibility. No, I don't feel as if at my age I ought to take the
responsibility. You see I've been postmaster here man and boy for....

“In the end I had to take the letter home again.”

There is one thing which you will rarely obtain in a rural post office,
and that is incivility. This as a rule is associated with “the
business-like promptitude of the young men and maidens in town offices,”
and the country postmaster's manners are often superior to his
intelligence.

The smaller the place, the more limited, of course, is the field of
selection by the authorities. Let me give one or two specimens of the
applications for appointment which are received.

  “DEAR SIR,—I see you have two vacancies for two sub-postmasters, and I
  feel I should very much like to become one. Would you kindly let me
  know where they are situated and what money is allowed. I have money
  and I have brains, and I pride myself as being straightforward,
  honest, and true, with purity of soul, simplicity of mind, and honesty
  of purpose.”

This man had, no doubt, painted from his own model a picture of the
ideal country postmaster as conceived by the poet and the literary man
who, writing in Fleet Street, dream of the sanctifying influence of the
countryside. But the inhuman Department declined to take the man at his
own valuation, and his qualifications were not considered sufficient.

Here is another:—

  “DEAR SIR,—I rite to aplie for the applacation for the Post Office
  seeing the Bill out an I have sold the stampes now as good five years
  now an I should be please to take the Office up from yours truly——”

I now give an application from a woman who was conscious of her
educational failings but suggested a way by which they could be
circumvented:—

  “SIR,—I hear that E—— T—— is done with the care of the Post Office and
  I ofer myself as a candate for the ofice through the Rev. —— i am a
  widow and as a shop and I have a grand daughter stoping with me a good
  scholar.

                                                      “I remain &c.”

This is an application which would be seriously considered by the
Department: the grand-daughter would be the stand-by of the post office.

It is often asked, Why does not the Post Office demand Civil Service
certificates from all its officers? The question, of course, is simply
one of expense. The employment of persons with a higher standard of
education would mean a higher rate of payment, and this would lessen the
annual contribution which the Post Office makes to the Treasury. There
can be little doubt, however, that the multifarious duties which are now
thrown on the village post office are a severe strain on the uneducated
official, and he causes an infinitude of trouble at the Head Office,
which has to rectify his mistakes. This is the sort of thing which
frequently occurs. A sub-postmaster was asked why he accepted the
signature of a certain Nurse Jones as witness to an important document.
His instructions were that the document must be signed in the presence
of a commissioner for oaths or a notary public. He replied: “Nurse Jones
is one of a body of nurses who is _well known_ in the neighbourhood.
Nurse Jones was therefore regarded as a notary public.”

But even with the drawback of possessing so many agents who belong to
the half-educated and quarter-educated classes, the Post Office gets a
good deal out of its country officers. Many possess plenty of shrewdness
and native intelligence, and business is got through with or without the
help of the regulations. They are sometimes not to be side-tracked even
by a railway company. There was at a certain date some irregularity in
the mail service in the Romney Marsh district. The local official
explained “that on Friday last the mails were only got off by running
after the train, and to-day in the same manner. On Saturday we failed to
catch up the train.” Evidently the South-Eastern and Chatham Railway
were beginning to accelerate their train service.

There remains to be considered the village post office itself, and post
office architecture is usually a rather painful subject. The modern
standard post office is obviously built for utility, and little regard
is paid to what fits in with the spirit of the place. But there are
hundreds of village post offices all over the United Kingdom which are
the delight of the artist and the tourist. Just as a hymn or a psalm
seems to contain an added beauty because of the feeling in the singer
that it has perhaps brought joy and consolation to men and women through
the centuries, so the little gabled cottage or shop covered with ivy
appeals to us not only through its beauty but through its long
connection with the joys and sorrows of the village. Those of us who
have visited Tintagel know the cottage called the “old post office.” It
is of the fourteenth century, small but commodious; it has a fireplace
which is so constructed that the inhabitants could sit round the fire
without being betrayed by the light to passers-by. It is fitted up with
conveniences for the use of smugglers. And over all stretch great roof
timbers black with the smoke of ages. That, however, is a disused post
office; there are beautiful offices still to be found, especially in our
southern villages, and every lover of the country-side demands of the
Post Office authorities that the standard pattern should be confined to
the suburbs and the new townships. We will willingly put up with a
village postmaster who indulges in euphonious spelling if they leave us
our pretty ivy-clad post office full of associations which bind it to
the village.




                              CHAPTER XXII
                              THE POSTMAN


It is easy to be eloquent on the subject of the postman. He is the
outward and visible sign to us all of the postal service. He brings it
to our doors. He has persisted, while other officials and other methods
have passed away to make room for modern improvements. Post-boys, mail
coaches, and mail trains have in turn carried our letters across country
at increasing rates of speed, but the last stage, viz. the actual
delivery of the letter, is still left to the postman. And I suppose his
average rate of speed is a very little higher than it was two hundred
years ago.

There have been, of course, changes in his methods and in his costume:
Penny Post simplified his duties while it increased enormously the
volume of his work. The town postman has perhaps changed more than his
rural brothers. The idea of a uniform for the Service is comparatively
modern, and in the old days there was great variety in the postman's
costume. He wore in town districts a top hat, and he rang a bell as he
passed down the streets. In certain towns not only was there the usual
delivery but selected postmen collected letters for despatch. “The bell
rings for my letter, and makes me lose the happiness of fancying I am
talking with my dear, to whom I am sincerely, ever your most
affectionate wife.” So wrote, in January 1701, Lady Mary Coke to her
husband, Thomas Coke, afterwards Vice-Chancellor, and there is little
doubt she was referring to this custom. A century later the custom was
in full vigour in London, and in _The Picture of London for 1805_
appears the following statement: “Houses or boxes for receiving letters
before four o'clock at the west end of the town and five o'clock in the
City are open in every part of the metropolis: after that hour bellmen
collect the letters during another hour, receiving a fee of one penny
for each letter.”

The ringing of the bells was only abolished as late as 1846 in London,
but it lingered on in other places much later: in Leamington there was a
Post Office bellman as late as 1866. Pillar boxes and frequent
collections have been the death of the bellman.

The general title “postman” covers a number of separate positions,
varying in importance and salary. There are London postmen, provincial
town postmen, sub-office postmen, rural postmen, and auxiliary postmen.
And these different ranks are again divided into established and
unestablished officers. An established officer holds a permanent
situation, and devotes the whole of his time to the Post Office service:
he has an annual holiday, and receives a pension when he retires from
the Service.

The unestablished positions are not permanent, and do not carry pensions
with them. Auxiliary postmen do not give up their whole time to the
Service, but are supposed to pursue another trade or occupation. These
men are generally employed for two or three hours in the morning to
assist the established postman with the first delivery, which is always
the heaviest. A postmaster reported on one of these men as follows:—

“Jones received notice that his services would not be required after the
20th August. On the 16th he came on duty at the usual hour. After about
an hour's work had been done he tossed up a penny to decide whether he
should stop or not; as he at once left duty and did not return, it is
presumed that the spin of the coin was against further work.”

A rural postman's duties are certainly more varied and often more
responsible than those of his town brother. His average walk is supposed
to be about 16 miles a day, with a maximum of 18. He is often regarded
as a “walking post office” in remote country districts: he sells stamps,
receives letters for posting, takes even registered letters, and in some
cases sells postal orders. The bell has been abolished in town
districts, but the rural postman still blows his horn or whistle in
villages where he collects or delivers letters.

It is obvious that with this huge body of men, who have great
responsibility thrown upon them, something approaching to the discipline
of an army has to be preserved. Let me mention a few of the marching
orders of the town postman. A postman, when he has once started on his
walk, must not go to his own house or to any other except to deliver a
letter; he must not smoke on duty; he must not deliver letters to owners
in the streets, but only at the houses to which they are addressed; he
must not put letters under doors even if asked to do so; he must not
take letters from the public for registration; he must carry no other
missives than those that have been regularly posted; he must not act as
a newsagent; must not borrow money from persons on his walk; he must not
agitate or help in any agitation for a discontinuance of Sunday work;
and he must not in any way be connected with a public-house or inn.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: THE POSTMAN'S BELL.]

      In the eighteenth and the early years of the nineteenth
      century the town postman carried a bell, which he rang
      vigorously to give notice of his approach.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are all sorts and conditions of men employed as postmen, and among
them are to be found men of education and culture. I have known several
such men, who could talk on any subject, and had read widely. I asked
one postman how he spent his annual holiday, and I think I suggested to
him that he probably lay on the beach all day resting his tired limbs.
“Good gracious, no!” he replied; “I go on a walking tour. I have done
the Lakes, Wales, and Scotland. You see, sir, it's really a change of
movement for me, for we postmen don't walk, we shuffle.” And this is
perhaps the reason why the postman fails to impress us as an individual.
In Mr. H. J. Barker's delightful book, _The Comic Side of School Life_,
there is an amusing essay entitled _The Postman_, supposed to have been
written by a little boy. Perhaps if all writers were to follow his
example, and record what they have actually observed, rather than what
has been communicated to them second hand, they would be equally
entertaining.

“Nobody could be happy in the world except for the useful gentleman what
we call a postman. For how would you no whether those arnts and uncles
of yours who live right acrost the fields and rivers was dead if the
gentleman didn't bring a henvelop with black all round? You would think
they are still alive and you'd keep on all writing to them. Thet is why
postmen are allis little thin men without beards, cuz they have to keep
on walking quick all day. They are not dressed up so fine as soldiers
cuz they havent to go and fight acrost the sea. You never see postmen
fight: not even with their fists, cuz they havent got no time with all
those letters to take round. I dont think postmen dare even fight boys
cuz when me and some more boys was a looking at a postman unlocking a
pillar box and one of the boys pushed his head in the hole and we all
run away: he wouldn't even run after us but only told a polleceman when
he came round the corner and when he came away from the polleceman he
was frightened of walking our way past us but jumped on a tramway and
shammed not to see us. Postmen allis knocks so as to waken babies and
then they tries to look as if they didn't no as baby was behind the
door. If the postman doesn't bring your letters you can summons him,
thats why they're so frightened. Two or three postmen come together
without letters at Christmas and they ask your mothers for a Christmas
box. My mother gave them a penny to share amongst them, but some didn't.
Many boys become postmen cuz they think it is a good trade. I dont think
they get good dinners same as men who hasnt to dress up. My father has a
lot of meat and bread and he keeps on a eatin. Postmen allis black their
boots cuz they are frightened of being summonsed. They are very
frightened men and wont hurt you whatever you do. Never be cruel to them
for they have to take care of their clothes more than you and are not so
big as they would like. I once see a postman not dressed up an he was
smoking a pipe and he put it away when he seed me and the other boys.
But we seed him though and some of the boys called out after him 'You'll
go and get summoned for smoking yer fathers pipe yer will,' but he
wouldn't turn round, and he puffed the terbacca out again as he got
further on. This is all I know about postmen except they are very clean
men most any time you like to look.”

We understand exactly how the boy formed his delightful impressions, and
it is curious that in an article in the _Mirror_ of the 1st June 1839 I
have found many of the ideas anticipated. “The letter carrier himself
may be said to be deficient of any very striking characteristic, any
peculiar recommendation as a national portrait; he himself is indeed a
commonplace; he is only for the time being elevated by our hopes and
fears.... He literally walks through life, absolutely knocks through a
whole existence transacting small Government bargains, with no time to
sit or stand or think of the iniquities, real or imaginary, of his
political masters. We never heard of a postman being concerned in a
conspiracy. If a postman start in life with a dapper figure shall he not
be slim and elegant to the last? Is he not certain of carrying to the
grave his original greyhound outline? Gout shuns him, corpulency visits
him not, while exercise crowns him with its gifts.”

Some of this, however, does not apply to the modern postman; he has
learnt the art of combination, and the Postmen's Union can scarcely be
called an ineffective organisation. And, of course, in hundreds of cases
the charge of personal ineffectiveness is ludicrously false. The
opportunities of their calling for brave and effective action in the
streets and wayside roads on behalf of their fellow-creatures are
constantly being taken advantage of by postmen, and the Royal Humane
Society's medals are held by quite a number of these men. And Post
Office history is full of stories of the way they stood by the mail to
the last moment in crises of difficulty and danger. The impression of
personal ineffectiveness is one that cannot be justified logically; but
it persists, just as the reproach of femininity is still associated with
the clergy. Here is a case where the rural postman scored. Motorists do
not always get their own way on country roads. A mail cart was suddenly
confronted with a large motor on a very narrow road in the north-west of
Scotland. The postman was told in peremptory tones to shift on to the
heather. He refused to budge. Language which appears to be common to the
driver in all classes of society followed from the motor gentleman. But
the mail-man merely remarked with dignity: “Every minute you detain me,
you are detaining his Majesty's mails. You must make way for me.” The
result was the car had to back a considerable distance, and the mail-man
drove past triumphant. And even the motor gentleman realised the
absurdity of reporting the matter to the Postmaster-General. He merely
continued to use strong language.

Moreover, those who have to deal with the postman find him delightfully
human. The Magna Charta of the Postal Service is the written
explanation. Before you can be punished for any offence you are given
the opportunity to defend yourself on paper. It is the privilege of all
ranks, from the highest to the lowest; but, of course, the written
explanation of the principal clerk is a different production from that
signed by the postman. The difference is often chiefly in style and
grammar, and the credit of the production as a real explanation of the
facts must often be given to the postman, rather than to the high
official, when he explains any action. All explanations are modelled on
the same plan: you state the facts, you explain your conduct, and you
express regret. The special feature of the postman's explanation is that
there is nothing studied about the composition.

A postman was asked “to furnish a written explanation for frequently
departing from the direct and proper route to the starting-point of your
delivery in order to call in at your home.” The reply of the postman
should appeal to our hearts: “My reason for the above was for no other
purpose than I told the clerk when he questioned me on that point—to let
my wife know what time I should be likely to return to breakfast. It
must also be understood that I have only been married a few weeks, and
is very anxious to return to my wife where others of longer experience
might be glad to keep away. I also told the clerk I would in future turn
to the left instead of the right. Remaining, your obedient servant.”

It seems that the Head Postmaster of the district recommended to the
surveyor not only that the postman should be reprimanded, but that “the
local sub-postmistress should be cautioned to keep a better look-out on
the movements of the men under her control.” This lady had failed to
report the irregularities; she had in fact winked at official lapses
incidental to the prolonged honeymoon. Like the postman, she probably
knew that his was an offence which time would cure.

These written explanations of the postmen bring us to close quarters
with human life: they illustrate for us, better than any description
could do, the conditions of their life. For instance, “The slight smell
of drink which the inspector noticed, was what I and my missus had for
our suppers.” I am afraid this inclusion of the missus rather justifies
some of the schoolboy's strictures on postmen.

A rural postman was asked to explain how it was that he was ten minutes
late at a certain point, and he stated that he had been “Reaveling in
Nature.” Again our sympathies are stirred: we think it hard that the
official machine should come down on him because he owned up to the
possession of a soul.

More attention is paid to the subject of postmen's uniform than in the
days when Mr. Alfred Jingle spoke of it in this contemptuous fashion:
“Rather short in the waist, ain't it? Like a general postman's
coat—queer coats these—made by contract—no measuring—mysterious
dispensation of providence—all the short men get long coats—all the long
men short ones.” But the question of uniform was long a burning one in
postal circles. Official delays were as frequent in these matters as in
others. A memorandum faithfully explains how matters stood. It naturally
causes irritation when the distributions are so delayed that the winter
clothing does not reach the employés until the cold weather is well-nigh
over: the irritation is not allayed when the garments which reach them
at the late period are found not to fit; and when months elapse before
misfitting garments are exchanged, it is not surprising that the feeling
of irritation is merged in one of active discontent. But more eloquent
than any official language is a representation made by one of the men
themselves. “I was late last night and my close are to thick for this
weather; my shirt was running with prasperation last night and they are
to much for this weather, it takes all your time to wipe the sweet of my
face, and I cannot tell weather I am intit to A summer sute or not, but
the things are too hot for this weather and I had to work at Skote and
weigh some parcels as there is no men to carry them when the woman is
out and that make a difference to me on my round and it is not all
pleasure with winter clothing and I am sorry; believe me to be yours
truly.”

Then there is the extra wear and tear which is sometimes difficult to
explain with a limited vocabulary. An auxiliary rural postman was called
upon to explain why his uniform was in an unsatisfactory condition. Here
is his reply: “Dear Sir all I can say a bout the trousers that i never
ad a pare that were so bad before and as for waring my youniform is a
thing never do off duty at any time, there is wone thing i have a good
meny styles to get over i have had to have the hole of my trousers
mended in seat be fore time of the next ishue but this is the worst.” If
the postman found his difficulty was in getting over the stiles the
authorities must have discovered that their difficulty was to get over
his arguments.

A postmaster in applying for stores once inquired “whether anything can
be done for a cycle postman who has ridden through the seat of his
trousers.” An auxiliary appearing in private trousers was taxed with the
disappearance of the official pair. He explained that after a shower of
rain he had hung them on a fence to dry, and had subsequently found that
they had been eaten by cows. Another postman was asked to return his
uniform, and he had rather a painful story to relate. “Sir, the postal
stores sent for the last light overcoat and cape Saturday last. I am
sorry to say that a little axedent occur to the coat in the wintry wett
weather; while my Mrs. was drying the coat her tail caught fire and was
damage and then I was oblige to cut her three quarters size and find her
very useful in the mornings of fine weather.” Evidently a resourceful
postman.

There are, I believe, 1800 sizes and variants of the ordinary tunics for
postmen. The man must have an original shape indeed who cannot be fitted
from the stock in hand. A curious physiological fact has been discovered
by the clothiers of the Department. The further north one goes the
bigger become the heads of his Majesty's postmen. The heads of the
Glasgow postmen are the largest in the Kingdom, and knowing this we are
not surprised to learn that the _Postman's Gazette_, the able journal
devoted to the interests of the postmen, is published in Glasgow and
edited by a Glasgow postman. I may also note that the feet of the
Glasgow telegraph boys are the largest boys' feet in the Kingdom.

The Post Office service includes nearly 3000 postwomen. They get a
rather smart waterproof outfit: official leggings, even shakos are not
refused, but most ladies prefer to wear their own hats.

The Russian Postmaster-General recently drew up a regulation that all
ladies employed in the Postal Service must wear a feminine edition of
the rather smart uniform which is worn by the male officers. It is
described as having “blue piping at the sides and button-holes and
metallic badges. The coat used by both sexes will be much the same,
except that the ladies' sleeve will be wide and fashionable.” The
Continent is always in advance of us in the matter of uniform.

The number of postwomen has increased lately, probably on account of the
migration of men to the towns. For it is in the more distant and
sequestered districts that the postwoman is to be found, and this
explains the fact that one remembers so rarely to have come across a
lady on her postal round. One of these ladies, Mrs. Elizabeth Dickson,
retired in 1908 after having walked 129,392 miles in thirty years. Her
walk was between Melrose and Gattonside in Scotland. She had not once
been late on duty, and had only been absent on sick leave for fourteen
days. She was sixty-eight before she found the daily tramp of 13½ miles
too much for her strength.

Another lady, Mrs. Jane Wort of Overton, Hampshire, was left a widow in
1876 with a stepson, when she was forty-six years old, and then took up
the duties of postwoman. Her daily round was from 16 to 17 miles a day,
and she maintained this for over thirty years. Only twice during these
years had she been off duty, both absences being due to sprains to hands
and ankles, which were caused by falls in slippery weather when going
her rounds.

The records of the postmen are full of similar instances of hard work
and long distances covered, and I have mentioned the ladies in
particular because they are in the minority, and are presumed to be the
weaker sex. It is, however, not everybody who thrives under this regular
and exhausting labour. “Well, Mrs. Biggs,” said a district visitor to
one of her parishioners, “I am sorry your husband is poorly: I think a
little exercise would do him good.” And Mrs. Biggs answered sadly, “I'm
afraid it's done him 'arm, mum; he's been a letter carrier now for
twenty years.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration]

        _By Permission of_                       _Messrs. Martin
                                Pirie._
                          A COUNTRY POSTWOMAN.

      This is a portrait of Jane Wort, a postwoman of Overton,
      Hampshire. For nineteen years her daily round amounted to
      from sixteen to seventeen miles a day. When she was over
      seventy years of age her round was reduced to eight miles a
      day. For nearly thirty years she had never been off duty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

At a farewell dinner given to Prince Ranjitsinhji in 1908 a letter was
read out from Mr. Buckmaster, K.C., in which were related the triumphs
of a village postman. He said: “I envy you the pleasure of the evening,
and I sincerely wish that it were possible for me to be present. The
last time I had the honour of meeting his Highness was at a village
cricket match fifteen years ago. The occasion will always be memorable
in the annals of country cricket, for he was bowled by the village
postman for nineteen runs. He never knew that the postman had been put
into careful training for the performance for weeks, and that he had
been driven all round his district so as to avoid the exhaustion of his
energies by long walking or too long lingering in the hospitable
kitchens of the country.”

A postman is surely the last occupation we should think of for a lame
man, but there have been several instances where a man with crutches has
performed his daily duties willingly and excellently. An official sent
out to test a man's ability to do his work—the postman walked 17 miles
on crutches—found himself quite outpaced by the lame official. A rural
postman who had a wooden leg made use of a donkey and cart, but it was
found out after his resignation that finding a difficulty in getting in
and out of his cart he carried with him a tin bucket full of large
stones. These he hurled at the front door when occasion demanded. An
original postman's knock. Certainly this was another resourceful
postman.

A rural postman of Newport who has recently retired from the Service
gave notice of approach in this fashion. He could whistle by the aid of
his fingers in such a way as to make himself heard from parish to
parish. And he carried an umbrella which it was said would shelter a
village population nicely.

Wherever he may be, in northern latitudes, in the tropics, or in the
town and country districts of the United Kingdom, the postman carries
about with him the proud consciousness that he is “On his Majesty's
Service.” Everything must give way before him. Even when on occasions
the streets of London are blocked to everybody else, to allow a royal
procession or a Lord Mayor's Show to pass, the policeman makes room for
the postman. These are perhaps the proudest moments of a postman's life,
provided always he is indifferent to the doubtful compliments of the
London crowd.




                             CHAPTER XXIII
                         THE POST OFFICE GUIDE


It is wonderful how persistent are certain prejudices in the minds of
the British public. With vast numbers of people it is an accepted fact
that Bradshaw is unintelligible, and a book only for experts in travel.
The A B C, with its delightful appeal in the title to the simple-minded,
was brought out to meet the needs of such people, but to anybody who has
grasped one or two elementary facts concerning our railway system there
is no doubt whatever which is the more interesting volume. Bradshaw will
trace for you the whole of your journey, the places you pass, the
stations you stop at, and the junctions at which you may have to change.
Indeed a love of Bradshaw for its own sake often develops in the mind of
a man who can travel in imagination, and we have all probably known
instances of delightful folk, almost entirely of one sex, who can amuse
themselves by the hour over the study of time-tables.

Another accepted prejudice is that the Post Office Guide is obscure and
useless for the average citizen. It is rarely seen on a lady's
writing-table, though the need for the information it contains is
probably felt by her almost every day. She will resort to any expedient
to obtain enlightenment about Post Office methods short of consulting
the best authority on the matter. With all our vaunted education we hear
people still object that they do not know where to look for what they
want, and they seem astonished if you inform them that the book has an
index. They object to the size of the volume; they want the information
they require to be obtained without the slightest effort: our numerous
books of reference are causing us to lose the sense of joy in the mere
pursuit of knowledge. A proper Post Office Guide should go in our
waistcoat pocket or reticule, and if the Post Office cannot tell us in a
small compass what to do it is out of date, and the sooner the
institution is managed on modern business lines the better for
everybody. That is the sort of criticism we hear of a book which only
requires to be known to be appreciated. Besides, there _is_ a pocket
edition published.

Let me take first this matter of the size of the volume which frightens
many people. The book contains nearly 900 pages. But 370 odd of these
make up a list of the provincial offices in the United Kingdom, while an
additional 100 contain the time-tables of the various mails to and from
London. Another 100 pages give directions and time-tables for the London
district, and about 150 pages are devoted to time-tables and directories
for foreign mails. The printed instructions, therefore, concerning the
vast postal, telegraph, telephone, savings bank, money order, and postal
order systems are limited to about 150 pages, and there are no
advertisements. This last fact, I admit, diminishes its interest to the
Bradshaw enthusiast, because part of the charm of his volume is that he
can select the hotels where he shall stay on his imaginary journeys. But
my point is that by far the larger portion of the book is composed of
time-tables and directories which are both useful and interesting, and
that, considering the huge mass of business undertaken by the Post
Office, the section devoted to explaining the regulations is small, and
expressed clearly and concisely. There was a delightful picture in
_Punch_ some time ago of two ladies in a shop debating what to purchase.
Then one said to the other: “You should try so-and-so; it is so highly
spoken of in the advertisements.” Now this lady's interest in the Post
Office could never be stimulated by the recommendations in the Postal
Guide. There is not even a preliminary puff in the shape of a preface.
The book, for instance, begins with simply an unadorned statement of the
basis of the mail service.

“The prepaid rate of postage is as follows:—

                  “Not exceeding 4 oz. in weight, 1d.
                  For every additional 2 oz., ½d.”

“Get that into your mind,” the Guide seems to say, “and you will find
that you have mastered the most useful fact in the whole system.” There
are, of course, numerous qualifications to this rule arising out of the
necessities of the Service. We may admit that there are perhaps too many
of these in the Post Office system, and that it might be in the end
cheaper for the Department to take more risks, but we can certainly see
a good reason for the following:—

“No letter may exceed two feet in length, one foot in width, or one foot
in depth.”

But there is an exception even to this: the British Government has a way
of contracting itself out of its own regulations, and official letters
are carefully excluded from the application of this rule. The mere
layman feels annoyed at this; he usually pictures the Government as a
designing body which is always “on the make,” and has certainly not yet
arrived at the truth that the State represents him even in small matters
connected with Post Office revenue.

Everybody knows a postcard can be sent for a halfpenny, but you will be
wrong if you think this is because it is a small thing, and that the
Post Office charges are in proportion to the size of an article. Indeed
the Guide will tell you plainly that if you reduce the card in size
below 4 by 2½ inches it will be treated as a letter. This does not seem
logical to many plain Britons, who think that half a postcard ought
naturally to be a farthing. They don't appreciate the difficulties
arising out of the carriage of diminutive articles.

The Halfpenny Packet Post requires careful consideration before we
venture to experiment with its privileges. Many people regard it only as
a trap to enable the Post Office to charge excess fees on delivery. But
if the Post Office Guide is at your elbow you will be able
satisfactorily to circumvent the designing officials, and moreover you
will find abundant opportunities in your daily correspondence to
economise your expenditure by the use of this post. Circulars, printed
visiting cards, Christmas, New Year, Easter and birthday cards may, it
is generally known, be sent by the post, and a bit of writing is
allowed. Now it is this “bit of writing” which is the problem both to
officials and to the public. Mr. Henniker Heaton recently stated that
there are only two persons in the Post Office who know what can and what
cannot be sent by halfpenny post, and these two disagree. Five thousand
persons, he tells us, were fined one penny each because their lodge
treasurer wrote “With thanks” on his receipts; five thousand other
innocent persons were similarly fined because the word “Gentleman” was
affixed in writing to the concluding words of the circular. In another
halfpenny post case we are told that twenty thousand recipients of a
circular were fined one penny each for the reason that a date was
underlined in red pencil. I do not know what truth there is in these
charges, but if correct, the Post Office certainly was obeying “the
letter” of the regulations. It is a matter of opinion whether it would
not have been better to carry out “the spirit” more generously. For the
Guide tells us that there may appear in writing on the document, dates,
hours and particulars of times, names, addresses, and description of
parties, the place, character and objects of meetings or appointments.
And there is a delightful permission for “formulas of courtesy or of a
conventional character not exceeding five words, or initials.” Some
officials take this rule very seriously. They have bestowed as much
ingenuity upon its interpretation as commentators have done on texts of
Scripture. I have before me a report from a Superintendent on the
question “whether 'With love' and similar expressions on Christmas cards
might be regarded as forming a dedication.”

“Upon inland cards it is considered that, bearing in mind how manifold
are the forms that formulas of courtesy and of convention take, and that
no definitions thereof have been framed, such words could reasonably be
regarded as partaking of the nature of the above-described expressions.
It is also the opinion that inasmuch as the terminology of dedications
is subject only to the laws of decent expression, &c., the phrase may be
taken as permissible in such addresses. The discussion of the point
before has not come under note.”

I think the complaint that “no definitions of formulas of courtesy have
been framed” is a delightful touch, and the Superintendent is to be
congratulated on a masterly statement of the situation. Paradoxes and
epigrams are clearly disallowed at the low price of one halfpenny, and
on the whole we may fairly conclude that when an expression of love is
priced as low as one halfpenny, and is in an unfastened envelope, it is
purely conventional, and should not contravene either the letter or
spirit of the regulations.

In the regulations for the Newspaper Post there is less opportunity for
casuistry. You are bound down to one formula only if you must write
something on the packet other than the address. You may write “With
compliments,” but any stronger form of expression will be charged as a
letter. This is an excellent way of teaching people that there is a cash
value to be put on even professions of friendship. Perhaps we may be
allowed to notice in the minute regulations which are hedged round the
halfpenny post the jealousy of the profit-making official of a postage
which is not particularly remunerative. And a moment's consideration
will show us that, if much latitude were allowed to the public in what
they could write in a halfpenny packet, there would be a considerable
reduction in the number of profitable penny letters. People who complain
are really demanding halfpenny postage instead of penny postage for
letters, and this of course could be secured to-morrow if the nation is
prepared to pay an increased income-tax for the privilege. And if the
nation will consent to charge the expense to imperial taxation there is
no reason why we should not have free postage as well.

The Parcel Post regulations are set forth in great detail: there are so
many things which evil-disposed persons would like to send us by post if
they could get them accepted over the counter. Among such articles are
explosive substances and live animals. Some may think the former term
includes the latter: it probably would inside a postal packet. The
special permission of the Postmaster-General has to be obtained for the
despatch knowingly of even a flea. A special exemption is made in the
case of live bees, provided they are sent in suitable receptacles, and
so packed as to avoid all risk of injury to the Postmaster-General.
Wasps are not allowed even in suitable receptacles: the risk is
evidently too great. Besides, there is no public demand for wasps.

Much advance has been made in recent years in the development of Express
Delivery services. I do not think they are as well known as they ought
to be: they are not “spoken of highly in the advertisements,” only a
simple statement of what you can do when in a hurry appears in the Post
Office Guide. But the broad effect of the regulations is that with some
increase in your expenditure you can have practically a private postal
despatch and delivery service of your own. A special messenger will take
a message or packet for you direct to any distance at the rate of 3d. a
mile. Living animals, including dogs, may be sent by this means, also
liquids. This is only one way in which you can be independent of the
ordinary mail service. I suspect that many persons who have not a Postal
Guide in their possession are ignorant of the fact that a letter
weighing 4 oz. may be handed in at a passenger station for immediate
transmission by railway. This is a convenience to many people who have
lost the post and are near a railway station. Then you can use the
telephone to speed up your mail service. You can telephone a letter to a
post office, and it will be taken down in writing there and despatched
by express delivery.

If you lose your train at a big railway station the company will readily
provide you with “a special” at a cost prohibitive to most men's purses.
If, on the other hand, you lose the post, the Postmaster-General can at
once provide you with “a special” also, but it will only be at a cost
slightly in excess of the ordinary charge, and, unlike the case of the
railway train, your post “special” will probably arrive before the
ordinary mail.

There is one soul-stirring regulation for the Express Delivery services:
it is hidden away in small print at the bottom of a page. What would not
Selfridge's or Whiteley's make of such an announcement! “Postmasters may
arrange for the conduct of a person to an address by an express
messenger.” “To see a man home” is a duty which can now be vicariously
put on the Post Office.

But it is not my purpose to republish the provisions of the Guide in
these pages: I want only to suggest to my readers that they may lose
many opportunities to avail themselves of the various services through
ignorance. For, as I have already hinted, the Postmaster-General is like
“Bobs” in Rudyard Kipling's verses, “'E does not advertise,” and many of
the admirable things which he is prepared to do for the public remain
practically undeveloped because of his modesty. How powerful would be
the appeal to the public if he could follow the example of the
Bedminster Down Penny Bank and advertise the Post Office Savings Bank
with an effective poster such as the one on the opposite page.

To reach the heart of the people the appeal must be in the people's own
idioms. There is nothing of this kind in the Postal Guide: you stumble
across conveniences for the first time in its pages entirely by
accident—conveniences, perhaps, which you have only imagined in dreams
and have perhaps thought of asking Mr. Henniker Heaton to advocate. And
all the time they were in existence, buried in the pages of the Postal
Guide.

But the man who delights in Bradshaw should find the most entertaining
portion of the volume in the list of offices and time-tables. By itself
this section is an admirable lesson in geography.

                  ┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
                  ┃ YOU WONT BE                     ┃
                  ┃                                 ┃
                  ┃    NOT LIKE WHAT YOU            ┃
                  ┃    MIGHT CALL HAPPY NOT         ┃
                  ┃    TILL YOU'VE JOINED           ┃
                  ┃                                 ┃
                  ┃ THE BEDMINSTER DOWN PENNY BANK. ┃
                  ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

I have always found the list of the London streets showing their nearest
post offices extremely useful. If I cannot locate the district in which
the street is situated by its name alone, I am often able to do so when
I know the name of its nearest post office. For instance, Holford
Square, W.C.: where is it in the big Western Central District? The Guide
tells me King's Cross Road is the nearest post office, and I know what
part of London to make for at once.

The time-tables of the provincial mail services always interest me
exceedingly. Part of the charm of writing a letter is to be able to
realise the time when your friend will be reading it. You can of course
usually do this if you send a letter by the last post. You know then
that as a rule he will be reading it at breakfast. But if your friend
lives at Red Hill and you post your letter in London to him after
breakfast, when will he get it? The Guide will enlighten you at once. He
will be reading the letter between 3 and 4 P.M.

If your friend lives at Wick, in the very north of Scotland, when will
he get the letter which you post to him in London, say on a Monday
evening at 6 o'clock? Again you can fix the delivery of the letter
within an hour at about 6 o'clock on the following evening. If he writes
to you by return, and posts the letter the same evening at 11 o'clock,
you will receive it by the first post on Thursday morning. Now if you
went to the local post office with an inquiry on this subject, the
official will only look at the Post Office Guide for the information
which you could have obtained yourself without the trouble of a journey.

There are many people who think that the country post is fixed in London
for everywhere at 6 o'clock, or at 5 o'clock in the suburbs. If they
miss this they think that the first delivery in the morning has been
lost. In numbers of instances this is the case, but the Guide will
indicate to you plenty of places to which you can post late for the
first delivery in the morning. For places as far north as
Newcastle-on-Tyne and Manchester you can post up to 10.30 at the General
Post Office to secure the first delivery.

Another advantage of these tables is that if you post a letter in London
or the country on Saturday you will be able to find out whether or not
there is a Sunday delivery in the place to which the letter is
addressed. It is difficult to go wrong with these tables; they are often
more reliable than the information to be obtained at the local post
office.

Outside a local post office, in the flowing handwriting of the
postmaster, appeared this notice:—

                           NOTICE

                   HOURS OF COLLECTION
     First collection: In Summer—Morning at 5 o'clock.
       ”        ”      In Winter—The night before at nine o'clock.

Like Homer, the local post office often nods.

Sometimes the Head Office nods too. Years ago there used to be a poster
which was displayed at every post office, headed “Advantages to
Depositors,” and these advantages were carefully numbered. They amounted
to eighteen, neither more nor less. But the eighteenth was that
“Additional information can be obtained of any local postmaster or by
application free of cost at 144A Queen Victoria Street, E.C.” This was
not a very happy ending to one of the few efforts made by the Department
to advertise its wares.

The sections devoted to Foreign and Colonial Mails will also interest
the Bradshaw enthusiast. The Postal Union has had the effect of
levelling the rates to something approaching to uniformity, but the
varieties in distance remain. The Guide gives the approximate time for
the journey of a letter, and we understand the method. Train and boat
will take you to Paris now in something over eight hours. The Post
Office, allowing for sorting, &c., at each end, will take your letter
over the same distance and deliver it to the addressee in ten hours.
Correspondence to Berlin takes 23 hours in transmission, to St.
Petersburg 61 hours, Constantinople 90 hours, and so on. You can
ascertain from the Guide the route your letter will take, and you are
clearly told what you must not send by letter post to certain countries.
Australia will not accept opium, tobacco, or rabbit poison; China will
not take cocaine, opium, and morphia; Denmark declines almanacs except
those relating to literary subjects; Italy refuses all our patent
medicines and articles of apparel, playing-cards, feathers, perfumes,
“and other things.” We should be very careful, considering the last
phrase, what we send to Italy. New Zealand objects to cuttings of grape
vines and printed editions of English copyright books and music; Persia
jibs at “pictures of the human form and packets of pictorial postcards”;
Roumania will not have religious pictures, photographs and reproductions
of pictures from foreign history, soiled newspapers, or playing-cards;
Russia objects to everything almost except a letter, especially printed
matter. The Straits Settlements decline opium, morphia, morphine,
cocaine, spirits, and bhang. This is the only country which declines
bhang. Trinidad refuses “Rough on Rats” (poison): it is the first
experience we have met of humanitarianism towards rats. Most countries
object to coin, gold, silver, precious stones, and jewellery.

In the Foreign Parcel Post the objections are more detailed. For
instance, you must not send to Belgium any game out of season, and arms
and ammunition are refused by this and most other countries. Cuba
dislikes naturally dead animals and insects, and Denmark objects to any
potatoes which come from North America. The Falkland Islands put in a
protest with which we shall sympathise against “shoddy and disused
clothing”: to receive it would obviously imply that in the Islands you
can wear anything. Greece wisely suspects sausages, and Persia declines
all “articles offensive to good manners or to the Mussulman religion.”
Persia evidently wishes by her regulations to give the impression that
she is highly sensitive to _comme il faut_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Illustration: A NEST IN A LETTER-BOX.]

      A Tom Tit's nest was built in the bottom of this letter-box
      and three young birds were successfully reared in it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Have I not made out my case, that the Post Office Guide is almost as
interesting as Bradshaw? At any rate there is no doubt that, from the
point of view of the long-suffering official, the British public are in
need of a Postal Guide. I am quite sure that in the eyes of the average
counter clerk the British public is the most over-rated institution in
the country. There seems at times no limit to its wrongheadedness and
obtuseness on postal matters.

There is, I am afraid, very often a great deal of truth in the charges
that are often brought against postal counter clerks, especially female
clerks, for incivility. I am not defending them—I have suffered myself;
but a great deal too much is made of single instances, and I am
convinced that in the vast majority of cases the charge does not apply.
There are four classes of public servants who have my special sympathy:
policemen, railway officials at big passenger stations, omnibus
conductors, and Post Office counter clerks. They are all answering
foolish questions the whole day long.

The editor of _Truth_ once asked his readers, before desiring to air
their grievances against the Post Office in his pages, to consider
seriously whether the rule, regulation, or treatment of which they were
complaining might not be justifiable. Regulations must exist in every
business, and having made rules the Department must enforce them without
discrimination. “It would be out of the question to give sorters or Post
Office clerks a discretion to wink at some kinds of additions to
postcards and surcharge others. Whenever you make rules you create
absurdities and hardships. It is absurd that if a letter weighs one
ounce to the closest nicety you can send it for one penny, and that if
you enclosed the hind leg of a flea in that same letter, the Post Office
should insist on your paying an extra halfpenny—50 per cent. more—just
for the hind leg of a flea. Granted that this is absurd, it would be
still more absurd if there were no line drawn between the penny and the
three-halfpenny rate. The Post Office stands badly in need of criticism,
but let the criticism be reasonable.” I think this is common sense, and
people should not abuse the Post Office servants merely because they are
obviously doing their duty. A lady wrote to the Postmaster-General in
the following strain, and it is the type of hundreds of letters received
by him: “I should like some other reply than the usual stereatippied
reply which I undurstand is usual and I may say that I am writing under
legal advice I shall probly put the matter wholly into Solicitorrs
hands.” Her intentions might have the desirable effect of improving her
orthography, but the law is usually on the side of the Post Office, and
the stereotyped reply is in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred the only
one possible in the circumstances. You can frighten your greengrocer
probably by the threat of a solicitor's letter; it does not disturb the
equanimity of his Majesty's Postmaster-General.

The moral is that there is no reason why anybody should resort to his
solicitor for either partial or complete advice on postal matters, so
long as a Post Office Guide is on the bookshelf. If the book says one
thing and the postal servant says the other, then is the time for a
complaint to the Postmaster-General, and not before. And if you do
happen to bowl out that right honourable gentleman on a question of
fact, you will have in nine cases out of ten a letter of regret from
him, and possibly a word of thanks to you for having brought the matter
under his notice.

As a private citizen I have been a student of the Post Office Guide
during many years. I have watched with interest the great improvements
and useful additions which have been from time to time introduced into
the volume. But there are two desirable features I have always missed,
and their absence still makes Bradshaw to me a more readable volume. I
want a map of the world, showing in colour the countries which belong
to the British Empire and those which are within the Postal Union. I
want also a map of the United Kingdom showing at least all the head
offices. And for the benefit of the large mass of the half-educated
clients of the Post Office, who belong to all classes of society, I
should like to see an appendix containing “A Complete Letter Writer,”
giving specimens of letters as they should be written to his Majesty's
Postmaster-General.




                              CHAPTER XXIV
                 OLD AGE PENSIONS AND OTHER ACTIVITIES
                           OF THE POST OFFICE


The General Post Office undertakes several duties for the State that are
not strictly proper to the Department, but which fall to its share
because of the splendid machinery it possesses for getting into touch
with the people. And when big reforms come along, such as Old Age
Pensions or National Insurance, although the money is to come out of
imperial funds, and is not brought into the Post Office balance-sheet at
all, it seems the most natural thing for the Treasury to use as
paymaster or receiving agent the Department which has an office in every
village.

As regards Old Age Pensions I cannot do better than quote the
Postmaster-General's own words in his report for 1909, the year
following the adoption of the scheme.

“The Old Age Pension Act, 1908, provided for the payment of the pensions
weekly, and your lordships having directed that the money should be paid
through the Post Office, a committee composed of representatives of the
Treasury, the Inland Revenue, the Local Government Board, and the Post
Office drew up a scheme providing for payment by means of orders of a
special pattern but resembling a postal order in general appearance.

“It gives me great satisfaction to report that the arrangements, which
were necessarily planned at short notice, were carried out with complete
success—a result due, to a considerable extent, to the hearty and
sympathetic co-operation of the postmasters and their staffs throughout
the United Kingdom.

“The first payments took place on New Year's Day 1909, and during the
three months ending the 31st March, 7,925,150 Old Age Pension orders
were cashed, representing a total sum of £1,904,722.

“In addition to paying the pensions after they had been granted, the
Post Office furnished (and continues to furnish) information and
assistance to any person desiring to make an application for an Old Age
Pension.”

And again, in his report for 1910, the Postmaster-General referred to
the matter:—

“The total number of Old Age Pensions paid during the year was
35,167,983, representing an amount of £8,465,231.”

It will be seen from the size of these figures that the Post Office
has taken upon itself a huge amount of extra business. The old people
of the country have an additional reason for looking upon the
Department as in a peculiar sense the friend of the poor. The weekly
visit of the pensioners enables them to become known to the officials,
and the pensioners in their turn grow attached to the building in
which they experience weekly the joy of possession. There are few
pleasanter human sights in the country to-day than to watch the faces
of the pensioners as they leave the post office. Moreover, the meeting
of the pensioners, all on the same errand, is having curious results.
The Postmaster-General, in his wildest dreams of the possibilities of
the Post Office, never perhaps saw it pictured as a matrimonial bureau
in which Darby and Joan, going thither to receive their Old Age
Pensions, would cast sheep's eyes at each other, and ultimately
surround the dole of the State with a halo of romance. In a village
near Dudley, a few months after the introduction of Old Age Pensions,
two old people were united in wedlock. The bridegroom had seventy-five
years to his credit and the bride admitted to seventy-four summers.
They had frequently met at the post office, grew to be friendly
towards each other, and discovered perhaps a touch of romantic love in
their hearts. Anyhow they decided to pool their pensions.

There have been many such instances. It is evident that many of the lady
pensioners are now regarded, for the first time perhaps in their lives,
as “catches,” and I am afraid several have sacrificed the certain
pension for the possible romance.

One of the most amusing incidents of the kind was brought to light over
the payment of a Savings Bank warrant. The sub-postmaster was asked to
satisfy himself as to the depositor's identity “in view of the shaky
nature of her signature.” The sub-postmaster replied: “I have paid the
warrant. Depositor an old age pensioner, aged seventy-seven, well known
at this office. The shakiness of signature was pointed out to her, and
she explained that she was very excited that morning, having just put up
the banns. Marriage at the Old Church. Ceremony will be on May 15th.”

Of course there are abundant humours and tragedies revealed in the
inquiries made at the post office by would-be pensioners. What desperate
efforts will they not resort to for the purpose of proving their age
qualification! An applicant at Monaghan, when asked for some evidence of
age, replied, “I remember eating a fish which was blown out of Drumloo
Lake the night of the big wind, 6th Jan. 1839.”

And some persons seem to think that by the payment of the pension the
Post Office is under an obligation to see that it is spent properly. A
postmistress received this letter from the relative of a pensioner: “To
the Postmaster. Dear Madam, you are requested by order to chastise J——
M—— of B—— for drinking his pension on Saturday, an also on a few
occasions this month has been found drunk, an if you don't write to him
and give him a sharp advice I shall proceed against you without further
notice.”

In consequence of the removal of the pauper disqualification on the 1st
January 1911 the number of pensioners was greatly increased. A few can
scarcely realise that they have not to go through some ceremony before
they can be entitled. The lady pensioner perhaps feels what many of her
sisters do when being married at a registry office: they miss the
ceremony and the blessing of the Church. At one office in London an old
lady inquired earnestly if she had to be christened. “Because,” she
said, “I've never been, and if I must I'd like to go to the Rev. —— for
choice.”

And she looked woefully disappointed when she was informed that even in
her unregenerate state she was qualified for a pension.

The General Post Office through its offices also supplies local taxation
licences. If you seek to be the possessor of a dog, a gun, a male
servant, a carriage, a motor bicycle, or a motor car, you will obtain
the licence from the post office. There seems, indeed, no limit to the
possibilities of the local office as an agent for the distribution of
the good things which we expect in these days from reforming
Governments.

                  *       *       *       *       *

A very interesting but little-known branch of Post Office work is that
connected with the army and navy. In time of peace the army at home and
abroad is served by the Post Office in the same way as the ordinary
public. Correspondence posted in this country for the regiments
stationed abroad is sent to and delivered through the agency of the
civilian post offices of the colonies and dependencies. During great
campaigns, however, it becomes necessary to organise special services to
meet the needs of the larger bodies of troops engaged. The first
occasion in modern times in which certain postal servants donned
fighting kit and subjected themselves to military discipline in order to
conduct the postal service in the field was in 1882, upon the outbreak
of the Egyptian War. The men-sorters and telegraphists were enrolled
from the 24th Middlesex Volunteers, a regiment composed entirely of Post
Office servants, and by royal warrant they were constituted the Post
Office Corps. The corps consisted of two officers and one hundred men
specially transferred from the regiment to the Army Reserve for service
abroad, and of these a detachment forty-four strong served with the
expeditionary force in Egypt and conducted the entire postal service of
the campaign.

The second reserve corps, consisting of telegraphists, and organised on
similar lines to the Post Office Corps, was created within the regiment
in 1884, under the name of the Royal Engineer Telegraph Reserve, to
supplement the staff of the regular Royal Engineer telegraphists during
the war. A detachment from this corps and one from the Post Office Corps
served in the Sudan campaign of 1884-85.

In the South African War of 1899-1902 the Post Office Corps consisted of
648 men, and 453 men served in the Royal Engineer Reserve. The serious
nature of their service is shown by the fact that the losses included
several killed in action and about fifty who died of disease.

The duties of the Army Post Office are, to put it briefly, to receive,
sort, and distribute correspondence, and to sell stamps, stationery, and
postal orders, and generally to perform the main functions of a post
office as we know it at home.

The Army Post Office Corps, which is mobilised in time of war, is a
volunteer organisation—that is to say, the men composing it are postal
servants who volunteer for the particular service. The work of the
Telegraph Battalion during the South African War was especially severe,
and no less than 386 men were drawn from the Post Office for telegraph
purposes alone.

In addition to acting as telegraphists with the army, the men were also
required to mend the wires, which were constantly being cut by the
enemy, and they were also expected to keep the wires in working order.
Seventy-six skilled linesmen were sent out by the Post Office to look
after this branch of the work.

Some idea of the postal work conducted by the Post Office Corps during
the war may be gathered from the fact that in one week the number of
letters sent from London for the seat of war was 313,416, and the mail
from the Army Post Office, which reached London about the same time,
contained 108,150 letters and registered articles. The parcels sent to
the troops reached very high figures, amounting in one week to 19,019.

“The undelivered postal packet” of the Army Post Office is of course a
large item in the day's work. It is pitiful to look at the contents of
the bags returned. The envelopes are torn and dirty, some of the letters
have lost their covering, thus making the delivery hopeless, while
others have written across them, “Killed in Action,” “Missing,” or “Gone
Home.”

Few people have any idea of the enormous area of South Africa which was
covered by our military operations. By the time mails despatched from
Capetown reached their destination the addressees had frequently changed
their station, and the letters had to undergo a long course of
re-direction.

Mr. H. C. Shelley, the war correspondent of the _Westminster Gazette_,
bore eloquent testimony to the work of the Post Office during the war.
“Both at Capetown and in the field I had many opportunities of watching
the Army Post Office Corps at work. Officers and men alike were always
alert in the discharge of their duties, and their courtesy was
unfailing. No trouble was ever too great for them to take: their sole
concern was that those longed-for letters from home might reach the
expectant owners as quickly as possible. At Modder River the post office
was a miserable room in which you could not have swung your arm, much
less your arm and a cat, but in that wretched apartment the heroes of
the Postal Corps kept cheerfully to their work with unflagging zeal.”

As regards the navy, each ship of his Majesty's fleet has a post office
to itself in charge of some duly appointed officer. Stamps and postal
orders are on sale, and a special bag is provided on board for the
posting of correspondence.

When the ships are in home waters the rates of postage to be prepaid are
the same as those prevailing in the inland service of the United
Kingdom, but in the cases of ships stationed abroad the postage home is
1d. for letters, 1d. each for postcards, and ½d. per 2 oz. for printed
matter. As long as the correspondence is posted on board the ships in
the special bag provided for the purpose these rates apply, and British
stamps are valid for the prepayment of the postage even though the ships
may be in the harbour of a foreign country. The ship's bags are sealed
and landed at the first convenient port, or transferred to the first
likely ship that is met, for conveyance to destination. In the outward
direction a special bag for each ship is made up in the General Post
Office in London, and is despatched under seal at the first available
opportunity.

                  *       *       *       *       *

A book on the Post Office would not be complete without some reference
to the boy messengers of the Department. They are certainly one of its
activities. They have been called the aristocracy of the messenger
world, for the State is in a position to pick and choose its servants.
They are almost as well known to the public as the postmen.

No boy is accepted unless he has passed the seventh standard at school,
and every candidate has to provide a satisfactory certificate of health
from “his own medical attendant.” A boy of fourteen must also be over 4
feet 8 inches in height. In London the boys usually start at 7s. a week,
rising 1s. a week annually to 11s.

The Post Office messenger certainly receives an excellent training in
good habits, and the discipline he undergoes is excellent for him. He is
required to be alert and resourceful, though perhaps he does not have
the same opportunities for varied experience as the district messenger
boy. No doubt his training is useful also for outside employment if he
leaves the Service at the end of his time, but the boys' special
qualifications are for Post Office service.

The boy messenger is especially interesting as a human type. He comes
into a public office raw and untrained, and he usually leaves it a
well-disciplined and decent-mannered man. If it unfortunately happens
that discarded boy messengers frequently join the ranks of the
unemployed, or even of the unemployable, it is difficult to believe that
they can ever become hooligans. How is the boy licked into shape? First
of all, in any large body of men or boys there is a recognised standard
of conduct; even the boy who lives in the street is conscious of a
standard of the street; but of course in a public office the standard is
maintained also by rules and regulations. Perhaps we shall know these
boys better, and besides obtain little glimpses into their lives, if I
let them tell their own stories, by means of our old friend the written
explanation.

The special feature of the boys' explanations is that there is nothing
studied about their composition. As a rule, they are simple, direct, and
unlaboured. They dispense with such trifles as punctuation, orthography,
or syntax, but you feel when you are reading the documents that the boy
is stating the facts as he knows them. It has been said that “it is
better not to know too much than to know the things that ain't so,” and
we forgive the form of this sentence because of the way it grips with
the situation: it closes with the truth; there is nothing to be said in
opposition to it, but its form is the form of the half-educated. So it
is with the literary efforts of the boy messenger: they are fresh,
human, and free from artifice. “Are you free from any bodily injury or
defect?” was asked of a youthful applicant for a boy messengership. And
he wrote down proudly, “Yes; I am in fine condition.”

Here is a snipping from official papers. It is on the printed form used
in all cases of the written explanation.

  “Messenger G——: To furnish your explanation as to your conduct towards
  an old gentleman in —— Street this evening.”

  “THE POSTMASTER.

      “SIR,—As I was passing through —— Street last night an old
  gentleman stood in the street. I threw a potato at the gentleman. I am
  very sorry, and I hope it will not occur again.”

There is no beating about the bush here. As Mr. Birrell said of Dr.
Newman: “That love of putting the case most strongly against himself is
only one of the lovely characteristics of the man.”

Another young hopeful had the misfortune to smash one of the office
windows. An indignant Superintendent wanted to know the reason why. The
lad made a clean breast of it. He filled in the departmental form giving
all particulars, and he finished up with a fine piece of pleading. “I
admit I threw the stone, but if the other boy had not ducked, the window
would have been all right.”

The boys are indeed often very smart in their replies. One was asked to
explain “why you were seen walking across the sorting-room with an
unlighted cigarette in your mouth.” The answer was: “Because it is
forbidden for me to light it in the office.”

As an instance of the smart messenger boy, let me tell a story. A young
man, having missed a train at Victoria, despatched, with faint hope of
its being delivered, a telegram to a young lady whom he should have met
at East Croydon Station. The only possible address was of course “Miss
X., waiting at East Croydon Station,” and great was his surprise when he
found the young lady awaiting him, as the telegram had directed, at
Reigate. The young lady told him she was one of a great number of ladies
who were on the platform, but the boy, on looking round them, came up to
her at once with “A telegram for you, miss.” Curious to know how he had
detected the right addressee, she asked him the question, and he
replied, “Because you looked so downhearted, miss.”

A messenger who was exceedingly troublesome, and who had already
received several cautions for his conduct, gave in this touching
explanation: “After being cautioned several times about misconducting
myself, I tried to turn over a new leaf, but whatever I do it seems that
every one is down on me. I try very hard to behave myself but I find
that I cannot do so.” The truth must be told: his papers gave no
indication of any new leaves.

A struggle between two boys in the sorting-room was explained in this
way:—

“To the Postmaster: Messenger Smith called me a wooden head, so I poured
hot tar over his dinner and punched him on the nose: hopeing this will
meet with your approval.”

It is to children unused to the arts of diplomacy that we have to look
for plain statements of facts as they are: we elders grow astute by
experience, and we hedge and prevaricate. The following bears all the
evidence of a real happening:—

“Messenger Halter: You are requested to furnish at once your explanation
as to the delay in the delivery of message No. 30. You were turned out
at 11.20 and did not return until 11.37. Please state whether you
stopped on the road before delivering the message.”

“The Postmaster: I stopped and asked a boy if he had not only one handle
on his barrow and he said no and I walked on again but the Gentleman saw
me and asked me if I had a telegram for boston view and I said Yes and
he said you silly fool Why did you Dam-weell stop and I said I was sorry
and he said sorry by Dammed why did you stop with that boy you Dame fool
I shall report you. You have made me lose the train.”

The following is also no doubt a true picture:—

“Robert Brown, No. 28: You are requested at once to furnish your
explanation as to excessive time taken to go to ——”

“The Postmaster: When I got my message I went up High Street and through
the market and delivered the message. When I was coming back, a horse
which was in the park that I was walking along side of came over to me,
so I stopped and patted it on the neck hoping it will never happen
again.”

We are all interested in the story of a fight, especially under unequal
conditions, and here is a thrilling account of an encounter between two
boys, written by themselves. We shall not fail to admire the splendid
calm of the boy clerk who, though struck in the pit of the stomach, with
the addition of several kicks on the shins, still remembered he was the
superior officer, with the right to caution a subordinate.

“Boy Messenger: To explain fully the circumstances which led up to being
molested by a boy clerk on the 6th inst.”

“The Inspector: I was coming back from a wait case and I saw Messenger
Jones through two cupboards and I called to him and the boy Clerk
mentioned called me and gave me a wait case to take out and I told him
that I did not know where to take it and he threw me outside. When I
came back from the wait case he dragged me downstairs to the ground
floor and kept hold of me while he was showing another boy clerk to get
papers out. About ten minutes later he pushed me upstairs and bent my
arms back and hurt my wrists at the time. He turned round on me all of a
sudden and caught hold of my neck and pressed as hard as he could and
wrung it. This happened on the First floor in the corridor.—E. C. P.”

Now listen to the boy clerk's explanation. Note the superior tone of the
boy in a higher position: it is a case of dignity and impudence.

“The Superintendent: Respecting the complaint made by the messenger P——,
I wish to point out that any injury done to him by myself was done under
circumstances which could with every justification be called
self-defence.

“I was asked by Mr. Green to forward a case to the Ledger Branch, and
when I asked P—— to go he after being absent from his bench for a
considerable time gave me a blank refusal. I prevailed upon him to go
after threatening more than once to report him. On arriving back he on
each occasion when going past my desk passed sarcastic and insulting
remarks, such as 'fool' and 'swanker.'

“Later he actually asked me to go down to the basement and fight him
though he is barely one-third my size, and for the second time
threatened to blacken my eyes. He also deliberately gave me a blow in
the pit of the stomach and several kicks upon the shins, _upon which I
again cautioned him_. Taking no heed, he rushed at me with hands raised,
and in the struggle which ensued he imagined he was badly hurt.
Regretting having been in any way connected with this disturbance, I
trust this explanation will be considered sufficient.”

The italics are mine: we cannot fail to admire the way in which, in most
trying circumstances, the boy clerk maintained his dignity.

The fighting instincts of the average boy are indeed the chief
difficulties of his Superintendent. “I was coming out of sorting-room
ground floor when Messenger B—— and I knock up against one another. So I
tapped him on the head and he tapped me back and one thing brought on
another and it ended wrestling.”

A very pretty and reasonable story, which does not, however, prevent us
forming a tolerably correct picture of the savage fight which actually
took place.

Here are a few more explanations:—

“I had a pain in my leg which came on me all of a sudden, but I am sorry
for this offence.”

“We were all whistling at the time but we made no noise.”

“I was watching an accident and had no idea what time it was, but I will
watch that I stand and talk at no other accident.”

Another in rather an aggrieved mood says: “If you knew what it is to
take half-an-hour to eat half-a-slice of bread you would know what it
was to have a gumboil.” We think we understand.

Yet another: “He was telling me a story and I called him a liar, only I
used stronger language.”

“I was taking a moonlight walk with my fiasco,” was the explanation of
one boy.

And one boy asks for a day's leave. “I beg to apply for a holiday to
attend my grandfather's funeral. He died of senile decay.”

Another boy's explanation of his delay in delivering a telegram was: “I
went there and back as quick as I could and I will never let it occur
again.”

The Post Office has from the earliest times drawn upon the boy
population of this country to do a large portion of its work. The
postboys were carrying letters across country three hundred years ago,
though in many cases the term “boy” was merely an official designation,
and the individual was nearer his second than his first childhood. The
labour is cheap—that of course is an advantage in the eyes of the
Treasury—but there is also a peculiar fitness in the employment of the
young in work which above all things demands quickness, alertness, and a
capacity for endurance.

                  *       *       *       *       *

We are approaching the end of our story, and it may not be out of place
in this last chapter to say a few words concerning the Post Office as a
whole, worked not by machinery but by human beings. Now what is called
“the system” in human concerns influences more or less every individual.
If you are a grocer “the system” is with you; the custom, the habit, and
the public opinion of your trade will grow upon you, and your
individuality and personal enterprise may in the end be crushed by “the
system.”

So it is in the Post Office; nearly all the irritation which the public
exhibits occasionally towards the Department is due to the fact that the
official they have been dealing with is controlled by “the system.” And
the larger, the more powerful the body, the greater is the power of “the
system” over the individual. The outward and visible sign of the
domination of “the system” is “red tape,” and it is found in the
grocer's shop as well as in the Post Office.

A lady once wrote to the Controller of the Post Office Savings Bank this
simple application: “Please send me a nomination form in the event of me
dying in accordance with Rule No. 27.” Now, strange as it may seem,
there is a type of official mind which sees nothing ridiculous in her
application. Long years of official routine, and the observance of
minute regulations on every point of official conduct, have the effect
of implanting in many minds so great a reverence for the regulations
which govern their occupations that they view it as only natural that
life and death should be subject to official rules. It is only a small
minority in any condition of life who are not controlled by “the
system.” Why should we expect the minority to become a majority just
because the persons involved possess Civil Service certificates?

Moreover, it is only a small minority anywhere who can be trusted to use
their own judgment always or to work “the system” in the light of their
own intelligence, and I venture to say that in the imperfect condition
of the human race what is called “red tape” means security for the
public. It is better to suffer from some hardship, owing to the personal
application of a regulation framed not to meet one individual instance
but an average of cases, than to run the risk of your official business
being conducted by a man whose guiding star is supposed to be common
sense alone, but whose own particular illumination is probably a mere
twinkle, scarcely seen by the naked eye.

There is a delightful official phrase which is frequently addressed to
complainants, and it runs something like this: “The regulation, which is
framed under Act of Parliament, has been drawn up as much in the
interests of the public as to safeguard the Department.” Both the public
and the Department need to be protected from the capriciousness of the
average official—who is also, it may be noted, the average man.

I remarked in a previous chapter that the British Government had a way
of contracting itself out of its own laws, and the Postmaster-General
often reserves to himself the right to contract himself out of his
regulations. The phrase, “the discretion of the Postmaster-General,” is
brought into play in cases of hardship, and it is through this loophole
that the rigour of “the system” may become modified.

Now, roughly speaking, the discretion of the Postmaster-General can only
be exercised in the General Post Office by officials who are in receipt
of at least £500 a year, and the flexibility of “the system” depends,
therefore, upon the personnel of a small group of men in each
department. The rank and file carry out the regulations; certain members
of the public consider that in their particular cases the regulations
are unjust or inapplicable; they appeal to headquarters, and here it is
where the discretionary powers of the Postmaster-General are exercised.
I do not say this is a perfect arrangement: the man at headquarters,
owing to his training under “the system,” is often afraid himself to use
the discretion to which he is entitled, and he too falls back upon the
rigidity of the regulations. But it works admirably when the official is
equal to his responsibilities, and when the complainant has a legitimate
grievance against the Department.

Many grievances against a public office arise, I am convinced, not out
of the thing done or undone, but on account of the way complainants are
sometimes approached. It is the officialism of the average official man
which we dislike. A certain clergyman was once summoned to the presence
of his bishop, a dignitary who was known throughout his diocese for his
want of urbanity, and on leaving the august presence he was asked by a
sympathising brother how he had fared. The clergyman simply threw up his
hands despairingly and said: “He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who
is able to abide his frost?”

There are too many officials in the public service who resemble this
bishop: the influence of “the system” on their official characters has
been to develop in them a sort of consciousness of caste. But I have
written this story of the Post Office in vain if I have not brought out
clearly the human side of the Department, and if I have not shown that,
although it is in appearance and working a huge machine, yet the human
factor counts in the highest as well as the lowest duties of the
Service. And I hope I have proved my case that the Post Office is a live
institution and adapts itself readily to the needs of the British
people.




                                 INDEX


 Abbot's Cliff, 191

 Aberdeen, 72, 73, 80

 Accountant-General, 45, 55

 Addresses on letters, 108, 111, 115, 120, 252

 Admiralty, 220

 Advertising postal facilities, 85, 323

 Aldersgate Street, 129

 Allen, Ralph, 36

 Alphabet keeper, 45

 America, 64

 Anglo-American Telegraph Company, 160

 Animals by post, 323

 _Annals of the Road_, 27

 Annuities, Post Office, 143

 Architecture of Post Offices, 233, 302

 Army Post Office—
   Crimea, 130
   Early history, 336
   Duties of, 337

 Arran Islands, 217

 Assistant Secretaries, 261

 Associations, their recognition by Postmaster-General, 262

 Atlantic Ferry, 209, 212

 Athens, 81

 Australia—
   First mail service to, 215
   Postal service, 258
   Articles refused by post, 328

 Austria, 160

 Awards Committee, 206

 Aylesbury Coach Road, 89

 Bagnigge Wells, 85

 Baines, F. E., C.B., 32, 265

 Balloons, 235

 _Balmoral Castle_, 216

 Band conveyors, 60

 Baptism, commercial idea of, 150

 Barnet, 98

 Bartholomew's Hospital, 58

 _Batavia_, 213

 Bath, 22, 36

 Baudot system—
   Introduction, 155
   Circuit, 160
   Working of, 167

 Bawtry, 281

 Bedminster Town Penny Bank, 325

 Bees by post, 323

 Belfast, 279

 Belgium—
   Parcel Post to, 84
   Money Orders to, 131
   Wires to, 160
   Telephone to, 191

 Bell, A. M., 182

 Bell, Graham, 182

 Berlin, 327

 Berne—
   First Congress, 225
   Treaty of, 226
   Second Congress, 228
   Monument, 230

 Bicycles, 99

 Birmingham, 31, 35, 70, 72, 164, 279

 Blackfriars Power Station, 162, 169

 “Black Swan,” 44

 Blackwood, Sir Arthur, K.C.B., 264

 Blind Section, 62, 89, 90

 Bombay, 215, 216

 Bousseul, Charles, 181

 Boxmoor, 72

 Boy messengers—
   Qualifications, 339
   Explanations, 341-346

 Bradshaw, 231

 Bright's Bell, 155

 Brighton, 75, 99, 100

 Brindisi, 215

 Brisbane, 216

 Bristol, 21, 279, 280

 _Britannia_, 213

 British Central Africa—
   Postal Service, 255
   Postmaster's duties, 257

 British Islands packet services, 217

 British Post Offices abroad, 205

 Brontë, Charlotte, 67

 Brussels, 191

 “Bull and Mouth,” 27, 50

 Bullion, carriage of, 209

 Burdett, Sir Francis, 34

 Burravoe, 81

 Buxton, Right Hon. Sydney, M.P., 201, 262

 Cable conveyors, 60

 Cadiz, 81

 Cairo, 215

 Calais, 220

 Caledonian Railway, 73

 Camels as carriers of mails, 246, 254

 _Campania_, 213

 Campbell, Lord, 23

 Campbeltown, 285

 Canada—
   Parcel Post, 84
   Money Orders, 131
   Imperial Penny Post, 258

 Canary Islands, 237

 Cape Colony—
   Money Orders, 131
   Ocean mail service, 214, 216
   Post Office stones, 255

 Cape Grisnez, 191

 Card system for accounts, 244

 Cardiff, 279

 Carlisle, 75

 Cash on Delivery System, 253

 Cats in Post Office, 95

 _Central News Agency_, 165

 Central Telegraph Office—
   Building, 67
   Transmitting centre, 159
   First office, 161
   Interior, 163
   Sunday arrangements, 169
   Staff, 173

 Chamberlain, Right Hon. Joseph, M.P., 51, 247, 263

 Channel Fleet, letters to, 116

 Channel Islands—
   Cable to, 156
   Mail service, 218

 Chesham, 104

 China—
   Mails to, 220
   Post Office, 244
   Articles refused, 328

 _Christian World_, 298

 Christ's Hospital, 58

 Civil Service, secret of success in, 272

 Clerical Establishment, 268

 Clerks of the Roads, 45, 125

 Clifden, 178

 Cloak Lane, 43

 Coaches, 22

 Coaching inns, 98

 Coin by post, 125, 127

 Coke, Lady Mary, 304

 Coldbath Fields Prison, 85

 Coleridge, S. T., 33

 Colonial Office, 51

 Compensation, 59

 Comptroller and Accountant-General, 265

 Concentrator switches, 168

 _Connaught_, 218

 Consols—
   Popularisation of, 140
   Amount held in Post Office, 141
   Facilities for purchase, 141
   Reduction of interest on, 143

 Constantinople, 84, 130, 328

 Continental Mail, 75, 222

 Cooke, 155

 Cornwall, 75

 Cowper, William, 21

 “Creed” system, 155, 166

 Crimean War, 130

 Cuba, 328

 Cunard Company, 212

 _Daily Mail_, 108, 193

 _Daily Telegraph_, 245

 Date stamping, 61

 _David Copperfield_, 281

 Dead Letter Office, 109, 118

 Deal, 33

 Denmark, 328

 De Quincey, Thomas, 28, 102

 De Saint Marceaux, 230

 Diamond Jubilee Reforms, 84, 246, 258

 Dickens, Charles, 28

 Dickson, Mrs. Elizabeth, 314

 Dieppe, 220

 Dockree support system, 88

 Dockwra, 35, 290

 Don Manuel Alvarez Espriella, 210

 Dover, 220

 Dover Road, 19, 208

 Dryden, 45

 Dublin, 218

 Duncan, Rev. Henry, 138

 Dunfermline, 287

 Eastbourne, 284

 East India Company, 247

 Edinburgh, 23, 32, 36

 _Edinburgh Castle_, 216

 Edison Telephone Company, 183, 184

 Egypt, 84, 215, 336

 Electric stamping machines, 61

 Electric Telegraph Company, 161

 Elephant as carrier of mails, 246, 249

 Engineer-in-Chief, 267

 Engineers, 195, 196

 Enniskillen, 284

 _Etruria_, 213

 Euston, 72, 74, 80, 89

 Exchange Telegraph Company, 165

 Exeter, 25

 Express Delivery Service, 96, 323

 Factories (_see_ Post Office Factories)

 Fair Isle, 220

 Fair Wages Resolution, 206

 Falkland Islands, 328

 Falmouth—
   As packet station, 209
   100 years ago, 210
   P. and O. service, 214

 Farmers' telephones, 193

 Fawcett, Right Hon. H., 85, 262

 Ferry mail services, 81

 Fiji Islands, 216

 Fishguard, 217

 “Fleece Tavern,” 44

 Flushing, 75, 220

 Flying Coaches, 22

 Folkestone, 75, 220

 Foot posts, 21

 Foreign Parcel Post, articles refused, 328

 Foreign postal rates, 223

 Foreign Post Office methods, 231

 Forman, H. Buxton, C.B., 265

 _Forty Years at Post Office_, 265

 Foula, 220

 Founder's Court, E.C., 161

 France—
   Money Orders to, 131
   Wires to, 160
   Postal methods, 234
   Savings Bank, 235
   Telegraphs, 236
   Parcel Post, 236

 Franks, 34

 Freeling, Sir Francis, 264, 268, 278

 Garibaldi, 41

 Gavey, Sir John, K.C.B., 267

 Gell System, 166

 General Election—
   Effects on telegraph system, 171, 204

 General Post Office North, 55, 67

 General Post Office South, 55, 67

 General Post Office West, 67, 161

 Germany—
   Parcel Post, 84
   Money Orders, 131
   Wires to, 160
   Postal methods, 232
   Post Offices, 232

 Ghosts seen from motors, 107

 Gibraltar, 81, 84, 214

 Gladstone, Right Hon. W. E.—
   Anglican Orders, 132
   Post Office Savings Bank, 138
   Home Role Bill telegrams, 171

 Glasgow—
   Early charges to, 32
   Telephone, 191
   Postmaster, 279
   Postmen, 313

 _Grand Magazine_, 270

 Great Eastern Railway, 75

 Great North Road, 22, 32, 98, 282

 _Great Western_, 212

 Great Western Railway, 73, 75

 Greenwich Observatory, 170

 Grievances against the Post Office, 330

 Halfpenny Post, 64, 320

 Harkara, 249, 250

 Haroldswick, 80, 81

 Harwich, 209, 220

 Hasker, Thomas, 24, 27, 30

 Heaton, Henniker, 247, 320, 325

 Hennibique reinforced concrete, 58

 Hill, Sir Rowland, K.C.B.—
   Penny Postage, 31
   As a reformer, 35
   Career, 38
   His reforms, 39
   As a lecturer, 54

 Hindhead, 199

 _Hindustan_, 214

 Hobart, 216

 Holborn Viaduct, 75

 Holland, 160

 Holyhead, 24, 29, 217

 Home Safes—
   England, 154
   New Zealand, 259

 Hong Kong, 84, 244

 Hood, Thomas, 40

 _Household Words_, 136

 Hughes recorder, 155, 160

 Hull, 279

 Hungary, 160

 Imperial Penny Postage—
   Beginnings of, 247
   Establishment of, 258

 Incivility of officials—
   Germany, 233
   America, 241
   England, 329

 India—
   Wires to, 160
   Mails, 214
   Early postal service, 247
   Honours, 251

 Indo-European Telegraph Company, 160

 Insurance, National, 279, 332

 Insurance, Post Office, 143

 Intercommunication switch, 163, 168

 International Parcel Post, 83

 Investments in Government Stock, 140

 Ipswich, 25, 75

 Ireland—
   Mail coach service, 29
   Parcel Post, 94
   Packet service, 217
   Service incident, 295

 _Iris_, 215

 Isle of Man, 217, 218

 Isle of Skye, 217

 Isle of Wight, 217

 Jacobs, W. W., 274

 Japan—
   Mails to, 220
   P. O. service, 243
   Savings Banks, 244

 Jingle, Mr. Alfred, on postmen's uniform, 311

 Johnston, Sir H. H., K. C. B., 255

 Johnston, R. W., 50

 Jolly, John, 107

 Joyce, H., C. B., 265

 Karstadt, Frederick, 70

 Kekewich, Sir George, 270

 Kipling, Rudyard, 250, 324

 King Edward's Building—
   Migration of staff to, 55
   Site, 57
   Construction, 58
   Ventilation, 66
   Staff, 67

 King's Birthday—
   Coach processions, 27
   Post Office feast, 46

 King's posts, 20, 208, 277

 Kingston-on-Thames, 100

 Knoydart, 220

 Lamb, Charles, 216

 Leamington, 305

 Leeds, 32, 279

 _Leinster_, 218

 Lerwick, 80, 220

 Letter bringers, 45

 Letters, number of, 64

 Lichfield, Lord, 36

 Lighthouse communication, 178

 Limited mail, 73

 Lincoln sorting carriage, 75

 Lisbon—
   Early mail service, 214
   Postal congress, 228

 Lismore, 295

 Listowel, 172

 Liverpool, 35, 57, 70, 97, 213, 279

 Liverpool Street, 75

 Loading coils, 191

 Local Taxation Licences, 335

 Lombard Street, 45, 48, 55

 London—
   Early posts, 19
   Mail coaches, 27
   Twopenny posts, 35
   First Post Office, 43
   Postmaster of, 56
   Chief Post Office, 57

 London and North-Western Railway, 31, 73, 74

 London and South-Western Railway, 75

 London Bridge, 75

 London Postal Service, 56

 _Lucania_, 213

 _Lusitania_, 213

 Maberley, Colonel, 50

 Macadam, 27

 Macdonald, Flora, 285

 Madeira, 81, 216

 Magazine competitions and postal orders, 133

 Magazine Post, 238

 Magnetic clocks, 170, 200

 Mail bags—
   Makers of, 45
   Colour, 62
   Travelling Post Office, 77
   Repairs, 203
   Mail cart, 80

 Mail coaches—
   Early days, 23
   Speed, 24
   Robberies, 27
   Procession, 27
   End of, 29
   Coach _v._ motor, 104

 Mail coachmen—
   Uniform, 24
   Furious driving, 26
   Stories of, 104, 107

 Mail guards—
   Arming of, 24, 103
   Condition of service, 25
   Complaints against, 26

 Mail trains—
   First trains, 32
   Late-fee boxes, 73
   Night, 74, 75
   Catching up, 302

 _Majestic_, 213

 Mallaig, 220

 Malta, 84

 Manchester, 35, 279, 326

 Manila, 216

 Manning, Thomas, 216

 Marconi Company, 178

 Marriage, depositors' views on, 150

 Masters of the Posts, 143

 _Mauretania_, 81, 208, 213

 Melbourne, Lord, 37

 Middleton, 92

 Midland Travelling Post Office, 75

 Milford, 217

 Milton, John, 45

 Mirror, 308

 Money Orders—
   Reduction in price, 39
   Offices, 55, 68
   Early days, 125
   Old charges, 126
   Number issued, 127
   Soldiers and sailors, 130
   Foreign and Colonial, 131
   Telegraph, 132
   Complaints, 134
   Scenes at counter, 136

 _Monte Video Times_, 243

 Montreal, 123

 Morris, O'Connor, 53

 Morse characters, 165

 Morse's Printer and Sounder, 155

 Mossbank, 81

 Motor mails—
   Early beginnings, 100
   Distances, 102
   Night service, 102
   Guards, 103
   Drivers, 103, 105

 Mount Pleasant, 61, 67, 85

 Mowatt, Sir Francis, K.C.B., 271

 Muckle Flugga, 79

 Mulock, Hon. William, K.C., 258

 _Munster_, 218

 Murray Multiplex, 155

 National Insurance, 279, 332

 National Telephone Company, 177, 185, 187

 National Telewriter Company, 177

 Navy Post Office, 338

 Newcastle-on-Tyne, 279, 326

 Newhaven, 220

 New Jersey, 285

 Newmarket, 35

 Newspaper post, 29, 64, 322

 Newport, 92

 Newton, 92

 New South Wales, 260

 New York—
   Telephone service, 189
   Mail service to, 213

 New Zealand—
   Postal service, 258
   Pigeon post, 260
   Articles refused, 328

 Nightingale, Florence, 130

 Northcote, Sir Stafford, 130

 Norway, A. H., 209, 210

 Norwich, 35, 75

 Nottingham, 279

 Old Age Pensions—
   In New Zealand, 259
   In England, 332
   Number, 333
   Stories of, 334

 _On the Track of the Mail Coach_, 265

 Oporto, 214

 Orient Company, 216

 Orkney, 80, 217

 _Osiris_, 215

 Overland Route, 214

 Oversea Mails—
   Times of voyages, 216

 Packet Services (_see_ Post Office Packet Service)

 Paddington, 75

 _Pages from a Private Diary_, 299

 Palmer, John, 22, 99, 102

 Parcel Post—
   Offices, 55, 67
   Beginnings, 83
   Rates, 84
   Foreign, 84, 328
   Sorting, 86, 88
   Receptacles, 89
   Packing, 93
   Switzerland, 232
   France, 236

 Parcel Post coaches, 99, 101

 Paris—
   Telephone, 191
   Postal Congress, 228
   Postal service, 235

 _Paris Messenger_, 240

 Parsons, Alfred, R.A., 274

 Payment on demand, 142

 _Pearson's Weekly_, 133

 Peel, Sir Robert, 291

 Peninsular and Oriental Company, 214

 Penny Post—
   Demand for, 32
   Introduction, 37
   Results, 40
   Dockwra's, 290

 Penzance, 73

 Permanent officials, 270, 349

 Persia, 85, 328

 Philadelphia Exhibition, 182

 Phonogram, 163

 Pigeon Post—
   French, 235
   New Zealand, 260

 Pillar boxes, 112, 113

 Pitt, William, 23

 Plague, Great, 44

 Pneumatic tubes, 161, 163, 203

 Port Said, 215

 Postal charges—
   Old style, 32
   Evasion of, 33
   Prepayment of, 37

 Postal Orders—
   Offices, 68
   Origin, 132
   Numbers, 132
   Effect of newspaper competitions on, 133
   Lost, 135
   Regulations, 322
   Foreign, 328

 Postal Union—
   First Conference, 224
   Opposition to, 225
   Business, 227
   Conferences, 228
   Monument, 230
   Uniformity of services, 327

 Postboys, 20, 46, 346

 Postcards—
   Number, 64
   Addresses, 114
   Prices, 320

 Post horses, 20, 104, 277

 Postman's bell, 304

 Postman's Federation, 309

 _Postman's Gazette_, 313

 Postman's knock, 315

 Postmaster—
   Early history, 20, 277
   News agents, 277
   Duties, 278
   Salaries, 279
   Powers, 282
   Letters to, 283-287
   Inquiry agents, 288

 Postmaster-General—
   Early conditions, 45
   Duties of office, 261
   Discretionary powers, 348

 Postmaster-General's monopoly, 19, 184

 Postmen—
   Before Penny Postage, 34
   Empire, 246
   Early condition, 302
   Grades, 305
   Duties, 306
   Uniform, 311
   Lame, 315

 Post Office clerks—
   Promotion, 269
   Advantages, 273
   _Esprit de corps_, 275
   Counter, 329

 Post Office factories, 202

 Post Office figures—
   Their size, 63
   Balance-sheet, 266

 Post Office Guide—
   Its scope, 318
   Usefulness, 320, 325
   Time-tables, 325
   Defects, 331

 Post Office Library, 54

 Post Office Packet Service—
   Early history, 209
   Sailors' pensions, 211
   Home Service, 217

 Post Office Savings Bank—
   Sir Rowland Hill on, 39
   Offices, 55, 68
   Origin, 138
   Number of depositors, 139
   Stock investments, 140
   Withdrawals, 142
   Cost of transactions, 143
   Government security, 144
   Cheque deposits, 144
   Staff, 145
   Colonial transfers, 154
   Home safes, 154
   Withdrawal telegrams, 163
   Stories of depositors, 146-153

 Post Office song, 46

 Post Office stone, 255

 Post Office uniform, 201, 250, 254

 Posts—
   Origin of word, 19
   Masters of, 20, 143

 Postwomen, 313

 Preece, Sir William, K.C.B., F.R.S., 179, 183, 267

 Press telegrams, 158, 189

 Preston, 72

 Primrose, Sir Henry, 271

 _Punch_, 193, 319

 Punctuality, 51

 Puzzle addresses, 63

 _Quarterly Review_, 26

 Queen Victoria Street, 67, 327

 Race Meetings—
   Telegraph arrangements, 166, 176

 Radio telegrams, 178

 Raikes, Right Hon. Cecil, 262

 Railways—
   Introduction, 29
   Travelling by night, 32
   Modern conditions, 71
   Parcel carriers, 96, 99

 Rat-catcher, 46

 Rats in Parcels Office, 95

 Reading, 75

 Red Hill, 101

 Red tape—
   Supplies, 202
   Methods, 347

 Registered packets, 112

 Reply coupon, 228

 Returned Letter Office, 108

 Returned Parcels Office, 94

 Roads—
   Early conditions, 19
   Improvements in, 27
   Neglect of, 98
   Motor service, 103

 Rome, 228

 Rosebery, Lord, 275

 Roman remains, 48, 57

 Roumania, 328

 _Royal William_, 212

 Runners—
   Early use of word, 19
   Indian, 249
   South African, 254
   Central African, 256

 Rural Posts—
   France, 234
   America, 241
   Early history, 290
   Later history, 291

 Russell's Wagons, 209

 Russia, 160, 204, 328

 Ruthwell, 137

 Sailing Vessels—
   As mail packets, 208
   Construction, 211
   Contracts with, 220

 Sanctuary, privilege of, 48

 St. Kilda, 218

 St. Martin's le Grand—
   College of, 48
   Design of building, 49
   Interior, 50
   Chief office, 56
   Officials, 54
   Closing of, 55

 St. Petersburg, 328

 Samuel, Right Hon. Herbert, 266

 _Savannah_, 212

 Savings Banks, 137, 150 (_see_ Post Office Savings Banks)

 Scalloway, 80

 Scavenger, Post Office, 46

 Schooling, J. H., 64

 Scilly, 156, 217

 Scotland—
   Early postal service, 19
   Footposts, 21
   Postal charges to, 32
   Mails to, 73

 Scott, Sir Walter, 29

 “Scottish Coast Village,” 298

 Scudamore, Frank Ives, C.B., 54, 265

 Selby, 32

 Serna, 213

 Shanghai, 215

 Sheffield, 279

 Shelley, H. C., 338

 Shetland Isles, 39, 79, 116, 156, 217, 219

 Shrewsbury, 79

 Sikes, Sir C. W., 138

 Skye, 217

 Smirke, Mr., 49, 55

 “Snooper in,” 190

 Solicitor to Post Office, 267

 Sorting carriages, 73, 74

 Sorting of letters and parcels, 60, 61, 88

 South Africa, 253

 South America, 243

 Southampton, 218

 South-Eastern and Chatham Railway, 75, 302

 Southsea, 286

 Spain—
   Leisured methods, 211
   Postal service, 236

 Spanish swindle, 114

 Special Events Section, 166

 Steam motors, 101

 Stephen, Justice, 185

 Stephenson, George, 31

 Stock certificates, 140

 Stock Exchange, 173

 Stores Department—
   Early beginnings, 45
   Offices, 68
   Business, 200
   Sale of stores, 205

 _Stow's Survey_, 43

 Straits Settlements, 84, 245, 328

 Studd Street, 68

 Submarine cables, 156, 160, 191

 Sub-Postmaster—
   Qualifications, 289
   Increase of duties, 292
   Troubles, 294
   Hereditary, 295
   Applications for, 300

 Sub-Postmistress—
   Qualifications, 296
   Methods, 297
   Difficulties with, 302

 Suez—
   Mail route, 214
   Canal, 215

 Sunday deliveries, 326

 Surveyors, 267

 “Swan with Two Necks,” 27

 Switzerland—
   Money Orders, 131
   Postal facilities, 232

 Tamworth, 75

 Tangiers, 81

 Taplow, 104

 Telegraph Act (1869), 184

 Telegraphs—
   Offices, 56, 67
   Early history, 155
   Transfer to State, 156
   Charges, 158
   Breakdown, 159
   News Section, 165
   Special Section, 166
   Long distance, 167
   Timing of, 170
   Loss on, 189

 Telegraph Construction Act (1908), 199

 Telegraph instruments, 160, 204

 Telegraph poles, 198, 203, 204

 Telegraph Street, E.C., 161

 Telegraphists—
   Scales of pay, 173
   In war, 336

 Telephone Company, 183

 Telephones—
   Effect on telegraph, 176
   Early beginnings, 181
   Parliament's action, 185
   London service, 186
   Decision to purchase, 187
   Subscribers, 188
   United States, 189
   Long distance calls, 190, 193
   Exchange, 191
   Farmers, 193

 Telephone-telegram business, 163

 Telewriter, 177

 Telford, 27

 _Teutonic_, 213

 Thomson, Sir William, 183

 Threadneedle Street, E.C., 173

 Tie-on labels, 94

 Tilley, Sir John, K.C.B., 264

 Tintagel, 301

 Tranavoe, 81, 255

 Travelling Post Office—
   Romance, 69
   First service, 71
   Apparatus, 75
   Disasters, 79
   Mail bags, 203
   Oversea mails, 213

 Treasury, 264

 Trinidad, 328

 Trollope, Anthony, 41, 52, 53, 267

 Trouble-man, 190

 _Truth_, 329

 Tuke, Brian, 19

 Tunbridge Wells, 22

 _Ulster_, 218

 _Umbria_, 213

 Undelivered packets—
   Numbers, 110
   Stories of, 113-123
   South African War, 337

 Underground wires, 178, 187, 190, 196, 199, 233

 Uniform (_see_ Post Office Uniform)

 Union Castle Line, 216

 _Union Postale_, 227

 United States—
   Letters to, 64
   Money Orders, 131
   Telephone service, 189
   Weather, 190
   Postal Union, 224
   Postal service, 238
   Postmaster-General's reports, 241

 “Valeurs à recouvrer,” 236
 Value-Payable Post, 253
 Vienna, 228
 Vigo, 214
 Village Post Office—
   Described, 298
   Architecture, 300
 _Villette_, 67
 Viner, Sir Robert, 45
 Voe, 81
 Von Stephan, Herr, 224, 226, 232

 Waghorn, Lieutenant, 214
 Walpole, Sir Spencer, K.C.B., 229, 265, 271
 Washington, 228
 _Washington Evening Star_, 228
 Wayleave-getting, 197
 Welby, Lord, 270
 West, Sir Algernon, K.C.B., 270
 West Indies, 84, 131
 West Kensington, 68, 144
 Weston-super-Mare, 287
 Weymouth, 218
 Wheatstone, Sir Charles, 182
 Wheatstone apparatus—
   A B C, 155
   Automatic, 155, 165
   Transmitter, 165
   Telephone, 181
 White Star Line, 213
 Wick, 326
 Window man, 45
 Wireless telegraphy, 178
 Witherings, 35
 Wolverton, Lord, 147
 Women clerks—
   Savings Bank, 145
   Conditions of service, 274
 Wort, Mrs. Jane, 314
 Written explanation, 310

 Yarmouth, 209
 Yates, Edmund, 53
 Yell Sound, 81
 York, 24, 27
 YQ wire, 166

                  Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
                           Edinburgh & London

------------------------------------------------------------------------

                           Transcriber’s Note

At the top of p. 28, the conclusion of the paragraph is punctuated
inconsistently. Either the quotation begun on the preceding page should
end after the words 'key bugle', or at the end of the paragraph. In the
latter case, the quotation marks are incorrect. The passage is left as
printed.

On p. 51, the paragraph beginning 'The old riddle' is likewise
compromised by faulty punctuation. In this case, the nested quotations
on p. 52 are corrected for consistency. However, it is not clear where
the quotation ends.

An index entry for “Mails to Scotland” is incorrectly referenced to p.
407, which does not exist. It is most likely meant to refer to the
discussion of the mail train to Scotland on p. 73, and the entry is
accordingly revised.

In most instances, apparent errors appear in quoted material, and have
not been corrected. Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have
been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and
line in the original.

  v.7      but it count[ sits/s its] friends in millions  Space
                                                          misplaced.

  52.1     [“/‘]Oh,[”/’] said she, [“/‘]I don’t>          Replaced.

  52.2     We don't begin till eleven.[”/’]               Replaced.

  52.5     replied, [“/‘]I daresay                        Replaced.

  52.8     of the hour.[”/’]                              Replaced.

  61.32    On the no[r]thern side correspondence          Inserted.

  182.28   the Centennial Exposition in Philade[l]phia    Inserted.





End of Project Gutenberg's The Post Office and its Story, by Edward Bennett

*** 