Another very interesting account of a mail-coach robbery is given by Mr S. C. Hall in his 'Retrospect of a Long Life,' the object of the outrage being, not apparently plunder for plunder's sake in the ordinary sense, but to recover some legal documents and money paid as rent by a man in the neighbourhood who stood high in local favour, but was understood to have been harshly treated by his landlord. The case occurred in Ireland, and is characteristic of the way in which the Irish people give vent to their feelings when they are stirred by affection or sentiment.
"I was travelling in Ireland (it must have been about the year 1818), between Cork and Skibbereen, when I witnessed a stoppage of the mail to rob it. The road was effectually barricaded by a huge tree, passage was impossible, and a dozen men with blackened faces speedily surrounded the coach. To attempt resistance would have been madness: the guard wisely abstained from any, but surrendered his arms; the priming was removed, and they were returned to him. The object of the gang was limited to acquiring the mail-bags; they were known to contain some writs against a gentleman very popular in the district. These being extracted, the coach pursued its way without further interruption. The whole affair did not occupy five minutes. It was subsequently ascertained, however, that there had been a further purpose. The gentleman had that day paid his rent—all in bank-notes; when the agent desired to mark them, there was neither pen nor ink in the house; the mail-bag contained these notes. Where they eventually found their way was never proved, but it was certain they did not reach the landlord, whose receipt was in the hands of his tenant, duly signed."
Interceptions of the mail for the purpose of preventing the serving of writs by means of the post are not unknown in Ireland at the present time. In August 1883 a post-runner near Mallow was stopped by two men, dressed in women's clothes and with blackened faces, who seized his mail-bag, and made search for registered letters which it was supposed might have contained ejectment notices. None were found, however, and the men returned the other letters to the runner. A similar outrage was committed in the same neighbourhood in 1881.
The following exciting and unpleasant adventure happened to the passengers by the Enniskillen mail-coach on its way to Dublin on the morning of the 4th January 1813. The coach had safely made its journey to a point within two miles of a place called Dunshaughlin, the time being about 3a.m., when the mail-guard, watchful as his duty required, espied a number of men suspiciously lying on each side of the road in advance of him. The night must have been clear, and probably there was bright moonlight; as otherwise, at that early hour in the month of January, the men lying in wait could not have been observed. There being little doubt that an attack upon the mail was contemplated, the carriage was at once drawn up, and the alarm given. The drowsy or benumbed travellers, thus rudely aroused and brought to a sense of their danger, hastily jumped to the ground, and demanded the spare arms which were carried for use on like emergencies. These were immediately served out to the passengers, who, if not animated by true Irish spirit at so early an hour, to fight for fighting's sake, were at any rate determined to defend their lives and property. At the head of the coach-party in this lonely and trying situation was a clergyman of the County Cavan named King, who, like Father Tom in the play, had not forgotten the accomplishments of his youth, and who was prepared to carry the message of peace and goodwill with the blunderbuss at the ready, this being the weapon with which he had armed himself. The robbers, perceiving thatthey were to encounter a determined opposition, thought it wise to retreat; and while the guards stood by their charge—the mail-coach—the men were pursued over a field by Mr King, on whom they fired, without, however, doing any damage. The parson, deeming a return necessary, replied with the gaping blunderbuss—and to some purpose it was thought, for three of the men were within twenty yards of him when he fired. The would-be robbers being now driven off, the passengers had time to realise their fright; and gathering themselves again into the coach, the journey was continued, though it is hardly likely that sleep resumed its sway over the terrified passengers for the remaining hours of that particular night.
These are but a few instances of the robberies against which the guards were constantly warned to be on the alert, and which they were enjoined to prevent. They were provided with a blunderbuss and a brace of pistols, to make a good defence in case of need; and it may be interesting to recall that the charge for the former was ten or twelve shot the size of a pea, and two-thirds of such charge for the latter—the quantity of lead mentioned being sufficient, one would suppose, if well directed, to give a hot welcome to any one attempting the mail.
But the guards were very often not so vigilant as they should have been, the ale-houses having then the attractions which to many they still have: sometimes they fell asleep on their boxes, and in other respects wofully infringed the regulations. The following official notice plainly shows this:—
"I am very sorry to be under the necessity of addressing the mail-guards on such a subject; but though every direction and inspection are given them, and they are fully informed of the punishments that must follow if they do not do their duty, yet, notwithstanding this, and everyadmonition given in every way that can be devised, four guards that were looked upon as very good ones, have in the course of last week been guilty of such misconduct as obliges their discharge—for the public, who trust their lives and property in the conduct of the office, can never be expected to suffer such neglect to pass unnoticed. The four guards discharged are John ——, for having his mail-box unlocked at Ferry-bridge while the mail was therein; Wm. ——, for going to the office at York drunk to fetch his mail, though barely able to stand; W. ——, for bringing the mail on the outside of the mail-box and on the roof, and converting the mail-box to another use; W. ——, for going from London to Newmarket without firearms."
On another occasion a guard was fined five guineas "for suffering a man to ride on the roof of the mail-coach," and at the same time he was told that if he had not owned the truth he would have been dismissed—this being followed by the quaint observation, looking like a grim official joke, "which he may be now, if he had rather than pay the fine to the fund"! One more notice as to the vice of taking drink on the part of the guards, and as showing the impressive and formal manner of carrying out a dismissal in the coaching days. The document is of the year 1803, and runs as follows, viz.:—
"I am very sorry to order in all the guards to witness the dismissal of one old in the service; but so imperious is the duty, that was he my brother he would be dismissed: indeed I do not think there is a guard who hears this but will say, a man who goes into an ale-house, stays to drink (and at Brentford) at the dusk of morning, leaving his mail-box unlocked, deserves to lose his situation; and he is dismissed accordingly. And I am sure I need not stimulate you to avoid fresh misconduct—to read your instructions, and to mind them. I am the more sorry for this, as guardswho have been some time in the service are fit for no other duty."
Towards the drivers also of the mail-coaches severe measures were taken when they got drunk; and the penalty sometimes took a peculiar form, as witness the following public act of submission and contrition:—
"Whereas I, John ——, being driver of the mail-coach, on my way from Congleton to Coleshill on Monday, December 25, 1809" (some excuse, perhaps, on account of its being Christmas-day), "did stop at several places on the road to drink, and thereby got intoxicated,—from which misconduct, driving furiously, and being from my coach on its returning, suffered the horses to set off and run through the town of Coleshill, at the risk of overturning the carriage, and thereby endangering the lives of the passengers, and other misfortunes which might otherwise have occurred: for which misdeeds the Postmasters-General were determined to punish me with the utmost rigour, and if it had been prosecuted, would have made me liable to the penalty incurred by the said offence ofimprisonment for six months,and not less than three; but from my general good character, and having a large family, have generously forgiven me on my showing contrition for the past offence, as a caution to all mail and other coachmen, and making this public acknowledgment."
In another case a mail-coach driver was summoned before a magistrate for intoxication and impertinence to passengers, and was thereupon mulcted in a penalty of £10, with costs.
The accidents that befell the coaches were sometimes of a really serious character, and of very frequent occurrence—some of them, or perhaps many of them, being due wholly to carelessness. A person writing in 1822 remarks as follows:—"It is really heartrending to hear of the dreadfulaccidents that befall his Majesty's subjects now on their travels through the country. In my younger days, when I was on the eve of setting out on a journey, my wife was in the habit of giving me her parting blessing, concluding with the words, 'God bless you, my dear; I hope you will not be robbed.' But it is now changed to 'God bless you, my dear; I hope you will not get your neck broke, and that you will bring all your legs safe home again.'" Sometimes the drivers, if it fell in their way to overtake or be overtaken by an opposition coach, would go in for proving who had the best team, and an exciting race would result. Sometimes a horse would fall, and bring the coach to grief; and in the night-time the horses would occasionally tumble over obstacles maliciously placed on the road to bring this about. Whether this was always done to facilitate robbery, or out of sheer wantonness, is not quite clear, but instances of such acts of wickedness were frequent. On the night of the 5th June 1804, some evil-disposed persons placed a gate in the middle of the turnpike road near Welwyn Green, and set up two other gates at the entrance of Welwyn Lane, also across the road, with the view of obstructing the mail-coach and injuring the persons of the passengers. Early on the morning of the 14th April 1806, the mail-coach was obstructed, in coming out of Dumfries, by some evil-disposed persons placing boughs or branches of trees across the turnpike road, by which the lives of the passengers were put in peril and the mail much delayed. A similar outrage was committed on the night of the 27th August 1809, when a large gate was placed in the middle of the road on Ewenny Bridge, near Bridgend, in Glamorganshire. In this instance the horses of the mail-coach took fright, imperilling the lives of all upon the coach; for it is very likely that they narrowly escaped being thrown over the bridge. Again, on the night of the 30th April1812, some persons placed eleven gates at different points across the road two or three miles out of Lancaster, on the way to Burton-in-Kendal, whereby destruction was nearly brought upon the mail-coach and its human freight. Between Northwich and Warrington, early on the morning of the 19th November 1815, eight or ten gates and a door were placed in the way of the mail-coach, and further on a broad-wheeled cart, with the view of wrecking the mail. On Sunday, the 15th June 1817, the horses of the mail-coach were thrown down near Newmarket, and much injured, by stumbling over a plough and harrow, wickedlyplaced in their way by some evil-doers. These are but a few of the cases of such malicious acts, with respect to which rewards were offered by the Postmaster-General at the time, for the discovery of the offenders.
Notice of Offer of Reward.
Notice of Offer of Reward.
But there were other ways in which the mail was placed in jeopardy—namely, by waggoners with teams getting in the middle of the highway, and not clearing out smartly to let the mails go by, or by otherwise so driving their horses as to foul with the mail-coach. And it is curious to observe how such cases were dealt with by the Post-office. The following poster, issued publicly, will explain the matter:—
"Caution to Carters.
"Whereas I, Edward Monk, servant to James Smith of Pendlebury, near Manchester, farmer, did, on Tuesday the 24th day of July last, misconduct myself in the driving of my master's cart on the Pendleton road, by not only riding furiously in the cart, but damaging the York and Liverpool mail-coach, and endangering the lives of the passengers—for which the conductor of the mails has directed a prosecution against me; but on condition of this my public submission, and paying the expenses attending it, all proceedings have been discontinued. And I thank the conductor, and the gentlemen whose lives I endangered, for their very great lenity shown me; and I promise not to be guilty of such outrage in future. And I trust this will operate as a caution to all carters or persons who may have the care of carts and other carriages, to behave themselves peaceably and properly on the king's highway. Witness my hand, the 2d Aug. 1804."
Then there was the danger attending the running away of the horses with the coach, of which the following is an instance, the facts being succinctly set forth in a notice of 1810, of which the following is a copy:—
"Whereas Walter Price, the driver of the Chester and Manchester mail-coach, on Thursday night the 22d Nov. 1810, on arriving in Chester, incautiously left his horses without any person at their heads, to give out a passenger's luggage (while the guard was gone to the Post-office with the mail-bags), when they ran off with the mail-coach through the city of Chester, taking the road to Holywell, but fortunately without doing any injury; in consequence of which neglect, the driver was, on the Saturday following, brought before the magistrates, and fined in the full penalty of Five pounds, according to the late Act of Parliament." And through the city of Chester, with its narrow streets! It seems a miracle how four runaway horses, with a coach at their heels, could have cleared the town without dire disaster.
Again, it would come to pass that in dark nights the horses would sometimes stumble over a stray donkey or other animal which had taken up its night-quarters in the middle of the road, and there made its bed. Nor were these the only perils of the road, which were always increased when the nights were thick with fog. On the morning of the 30th December 1813, the mail from the South reached Berwick late owing to a fog, the horses being led by the driver, notwithstanding whose care the coach had been overturned twice. The drivers were called upon on occasions to make up their minds in a moment to choose one of two courses, when danger suddenly burst upon them and there was no escape from it. A good instance of such a case happened to the driver of the Edinburgh to Dumfries mail-coach, who proved that he could reason his case quickly and take his resolve. At one of the stages he had changed horses, and was proceeding on his way, the first portion of the road being down a steep hill with an abrupt turn at the foot. He had hardly got his coach fairly set in motion,when to his dismay he perceived that the wheelers, two new horses, had no notion of holding back. The animals became furious, while the passengers became alarmed. It seemed a hopeless task to control the horses under the circumstances, and to attempt to take the turn at the foot of the hill would have assured the upsetting of the coach and all its belongings. At this juncture the passengers observed a strange smile creep over the coachman's face, while he gathered up the reins in the best style of the profession, at the same time lashing his horses into a good gallop. Terror-struck, the passengers saw nothing but destruction before them; yet they had no alternative but to await the issue. Opposite the foot of the hill was a stout gate leading into a field, and this was the goal the driver had in view. Steadying the coach by keeping its course straight, he gave his horses all the momentum they could gather, and shot them direct at the gate. The gate went into splinters, the horses and coach bounded into the field, and were there immediately drawn up, neither horses, coach, nor passengers being seriously hurt by the adventure.
HOLYHEAD AND CHESTER MAILS SNOWED UP NEAR DUNSTABLE—26TH DEC. 1836.
HOLYHEAD AND CHESTER MAILS SNOWED UPNEAR DUNSTABLE—26TH DEC. 1836. (From an old Print.)
Of all the interruptions to the mail-coach service, none were so serious as those which were occasioned by snowstorms, nor were the dangers attending them of a light nature to the drivers, guards, or passengers. The work achieved by man, either for good or evil, how insignificant does it not seem when contrasted with the phenomena of nature!
In the year 1799 a severe snowstorm occurred in the country, which very much deranged the mail-service, as may be gathered from the following circular issued by the London Post-office on the 27th April of that year:—
"Several mail-coaches being still missing that were obstructed in the snow since the 1st February last, this is to desire you will immediately represent to me an accountof all spare patent mail-coaches that are in the stage where you travel over, whether they are regular stationed mail-coaches or extra spare coaches, and the exact place where they are, either in barn, field, yard, or coach-house, and the condition they are in, and if they have seats, rugs, and windows complete." So that here, after a lapse of about three months, the Post-office had not recovered the use of all its mail-coaches, and was beginning to hunt up the missing vehicles.
Another snowstorm occurred in January 1814, evidence of which, from a passenger's point of view, is furnished by Macready in his 'Reminiscences.' He wrote as follows:—
"The snow was falling fast, and had already drifted so high between the Ross Inn and Berwick-on-Tweed that it had been necessary to cut a passage for carriages for some miles. We did not reach Newcastle until nearly two hours after midnight: and fortunate was it for the theatre and ourselves that we had not delayed our journey, for the next day the mails were stopped; nor for more than six weeks was there any conveyance by carriage between Edinburgh and Newcastle. After some weeks a passage was cut through the snow for the guards to carry the mails on horseback, but for a length of time the communications every way were very irregular."
But Christmas of 1836 must bear the palm for snowstorms which have succeeded in deranging the mail-service in England, and it may be well to quote here some accounts of the circumstances written at the time:—
"The guard of the Glasgow mail, which arrived on Sunday morning, said that the roads were in the northern parts heavy with snow, and that at one place the mail was two hours getting over four miles of road. Never before, within recollection, was the London mail stopped for a whole night at a few miles from London; and never beforehas the intercourse between the southern shires of England and the metropolis been interrupted for two whole days."
"Fourteen mail-coaches were abandoned on the various roads."
"The Brighton mail (from London) reached Crawley, but was compelled to return. The Dover mail also returned, not being able to proceed farther than Gravesend. The Hastings mail was also obliged to return. The Brighton up-mail of Sunday had travelled about eight miles from that town, when it fell into a drift of snow, from which it was impossible to extricate it without further assistance. The guard immediately set off to obtain all necessary aid; but when he returned, no trace whatever could be found either of the coach, coachman, or passengers, three in number. After much difficulty the coach was found, but could not be extricated from the hollow into which it had got. The guard did not reach town until seven o'clock on Tuesday night, having been obliged to travel with the bags on horseback, and in many instances to leave the main road and proceed across fields, in order to avoid the deep drifts of snow."
"The Bath and Bristol mails, due on Tuesday morning, were abandoned eighty miles from London, and the mail-bags brought up in a postchaise-and-four by the two guards, who reached London at six o'clock on Wednesday morning. For seventeen miles of the distance they had to come across fields."
"The Manchester down-mail reached St Albans, and getting off the road into a hollow, was upset. The guard returned to London in a post-chaise and four horses with the bags and passengers."
"About a mile from St Albans, on the London side, a chariot without horses was seen on Tuesday nearly buried in the snow. There were two ladies inside, who made anearnest appeal to the mail-guard, whose coach had got into a drift nearly at the same spot. The ladies said the postboy had left them to go to St Albans to get fresh cattle, and had been gone two hours. The guard was unable to assist them, and his mail being extracted, he pursued his journey for London, leaving the chariot and ladies in the situation where they were first seen."
"The Devonport mail arrived at half-past eleven o'clock. The guard, who had travelled with it from Ilminster, a distance of 140 miles, states that journey to have been a most trying one to both men and cattle. The storm commenced when they reached Wincanton, and never afterwards ceased. The wind blew fresh, and the snow and sleet in crossing Salisbury Plain were driving into their faces so as almost to blind them. Between Andover and Whitchurch the mail was stuck fast in a snowdrift, and the horses, in attempting to get out, were nearly buried. The coachman got down, and almost disappeared in the drift upon which he alighted. Fortunately, at this juncture, a waggon with four horses came up, and by unyoking these from the waggon and attaching them to the mail, it was got out of the hollow in which it was sunk."
These are some of the reports, written at the time, of the disorganisation of the mail-service in consequence of the snowstorm. Some slight idea of the magnitude of the drifts may be obtained from one or two additional particulars. The mail proceeding from Exeter for London was five times buried in the snow, and had to be dug out. A mail-coach got off the road seven miles from Louth, and went over into a gravel-pit, one of the horses being killed and the guard severely bruised. So deeply was another coach buried on this line of road that it took 300 men, principally sappers and miners, working several hours, to make a passage to the coach and rescue the mails andpassengers. Near Chatham the snow lay to a depth of 30 or 40 feet, and the military were turned out to the number of 600 to clear the roads.
THE DEVON-PORT MAIL-COACH
THE DEVONPORT MAIL-COACH FORCING ITS WAY THROUGHA SNOWDRIFT NEAR AMESBURY—27TH DEC. 1836. (From an old Print.)
On the line of road from Chatham to Dover, a sum of £700 was spent by the road-trustees in opening up the road for the resumption of traffic, an official report stating that for 26 miles the road "was blocked up by an impenetrable mass of snow varying from 3 feet to 18 feet in depth."
Between Leicester and Northampton cuttings were made, just wide enough for a coach to pass, where the snow was heaped up to a height of 30, 40, and in some places 50 feet. About a stage from Coventry, near a place called Dunchurch, seventeen coaches were reported to be laid up in the snow; and in other parts of the country a similar wholesale derangement or stoppage of road-traffic took place.
On the 9th January 1837, an official report set forth that "the mail-coach road between Louth and Sheffield had on the 6th inst. been closed twelve days in consequence of the snow, and it is stated that it will be a week before the mail can run." An attempt was made to get the mail forward from Lewes to London by post-chaise and four horses; but after proceeding about a mile from the town, the chaise returned, the driver reporting that it was impossible to proceed, as the main road was quite blocked up with snow to a depth of 10 or 12 feet.
These were the good old times; and no doubt to us they have a romance, though to the people who lived in them they had a very practical aspect.
The general instructions to mail-guards in cases of breakdown were as follows:—
"When the coach is so broke down that it cannot proceed as it is on its way to London, if you have not above two passengers, and you can procure a post-chaise withoutloss of time, get them and the mail forward in that way, with the horses that used to draw the mail-coach, that they may be in their places (till you come to where a coach is stationed); and if you have lost any time, you must endeavour to fetch it up, which may be easily done, as the chaise is lighter than the coach.
"If you cannot get a post-chaise, take off one of the coach-horses, and ride with your bags to the next stage; there take another horse,—and so on till you come to the end of your ground, when you must deliver the bags to the next guard, who must proceed in the same manner. If your mail is so large (as the York, Manchester, and two or three others are at some part of the road) that one horse cannot carry it, you may take two; tie the mail on one horse and ride the other. The person who horses the mail must order his horsekeeper at every stage to furnish you with horses in case of accidents. Change your horses at every post-town, and do all your office-duty the same as if the coach travelled.
"If in travelling from London an accident happens, use all possible expedition in repairing the coach to proceed; and if it cannot be repaired in an hour or two, take the mail forward by horse or chaise—if the latter, the passengers will go with you."
In pursuance of these instructions, many instances of devotion to duty were given by the mail-guards, in labouring to get the mails forward in the midst of the snowstorm of 1836.
On the 26th of December the Birmingham mail-coach, proceeding to London, got rather beyond Aylesbury, where it broke down. Some things having been set right, another effort was made, and some little further way made; but the attempt to go on had to be given up, for the snow was getting deeper at every step. A hurricane was blowing,accompanied with a fall of fine snow, and the horses shook with extreme cold. In these circumstances, Price the mail-guard mounted one of the horses, tied his mail-bags on the back of another, and set out for London. He was joined farther on by two postboys on other horses with the bye-bags, and all three journeyed in company. The road-marks being frequently effaced, they were constantly deviating from their proper course, clearing gates, hedges, and ditches; but having a general knowledge of the lie of the country, and Price being possessed of good nerves, they succeeded in reaching the metropolis. The guard was in a distressing state of exhaustion when he reached his destination. This was only one instance of the way in which the guards acquitted themselves during this memorable storm, and for their great exertions they received the special thanks of the Postmaster-General.
At a place called Cavendish Bridge the mails were arrested by the storm, and the exertions of the coachman and guard were thus referred to by a private gentleman of the neighbourhood, who communicated with the Post-office on the subject: "I take leave to remark that the zeal and industry evinced by the guard and coachman, more especially the former (named Needle), upon the trying occasion to which your communication has reference, was well worthy of imitation, and formed a striking contrast to the reprehensible apathy of two gentlemen who were inside passengers by the mail."
A notable instance of the devotion to duty of a coachman and mail-guard, and one illustrating the dangers and hardships which Post-office servants of that class had to encounter, occurred in the winter of 1831. On Tuesday the 1st February of that year, James M'George, mail-guard, and John Goodfellow, coachman, set out from Dumfries for Edinburgh at seven o'clock in the morning,and after extraordinary exertions reached Moffat,—beyond which, however, they found it impossible to proceed with the coach, owing to the accumulation of snow. They then procured saddle-horses, and with these, accompanied by a postboy, they went on, intending to continue their journey in this way. They had not proceeded beyond Erickstane Hill, a rising ground in close proximity to the well-known natural enclosure called the Deil's Beef-Tub, when it became evident that the horses could not make the journey, and these were sent back in charge of the postboy to Moffat. The guard and coachman, unwilling to give in, continued their journey on foot, having in view to reach a roadside inn at Tweedshaws, some two or three miles farther on. The exact particulars of what thereafter happened will never be known, beyond this, that the mail-bags were afterwards found tied to one of the road-posts set up in like situations to mark the line of road on occasions of snowstorms, and that the two men perished in the drift. The last act performed by them, before being quite overcome by exhaustion and fatigue, was inspired by a sense of duty, their aim being to leave the bags where they would more readily be found by others, should they themselves not live to recover them. Shortly after this the two men appear to have succumbed; for their bodies were found five days afterwards within a hundred yards of the place where they left the bags, and where at the cost of their lives they had rendered their last service to the Post-office and their country.
"And down he sinksBeneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death,Mix'd with the tender anguish Nature shootsThrough the wrung bosom of the dying man,His wife, his children, and his friends unseen.. . . . . On every nerveThe deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense;And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,Lays him along the snows, a stiffened corse,Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast."—Thomson.
"And down he sinksBeneath the shelter of the shapeless drift,Thinking o'er all the bitterness of death,Mix'd with the tender anguish Nature shootsThrough the wrung bosom of the dying man,His wife, his children, and his friends unseen.. . . . . On every nerveThe deadly winter seizes; shuts up sense;And, o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold,Lays him along the snows, a stiffened corse,Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern blast."—Thomson.
We who are accustomed to the comforts of railway travelling, are nevertheless, in regard to accidents, very much like the ostrich; for though we do not purposely close our eyes to danger, we are nevertheless placed in such a position that we are unable, when shut up in a railway carriage, to see what is before us, or about to happen.
Far otherwise was the case in the days of coaching. The passengers, as well as the drivers and guards, were not only exposed to the drenchings from long-continued rain, the terrible exposure to the cold night-air in winter travelling, and the danger of attack from highwaymen, but they ran the risks of all the accidents of the road, many of which they could see to be inevitable before they happened. There were occasions when passengers were frozen to death on the coaches, and others when they fell off benumbed with cold. It is said sometimes that first impressions are often correct; but there are, of course, erroneous first impressions as well. A story is told of a mail-guard in Scotland who had the misfortune to be on a coach which upset, and from which all the outside people were thrown to the ground. The guard came down upon his head on the top of a stiff hedge, and from this temporary situation rolled into a ditch, where for a moment he lay. Coming to himself from a partial stupor, he imagined there was something wrong with the top of his head, and putting up his hand, he felt a flat surface, which to his dawning perception appeared to be a section of his neck, his impression being that his head had beencut off. This was, however, nothing but the crown of his hat, which, being forced down over his head and face, had probably saved him from more serious damage. Broken limbs were accidents of common occurrence; but affairs of much more serious import occasionally took place, of which the following is a notable example:—
On the night of Tuesday the 25th October 1808, the road between Carlisle and Glasgow was the scene of a catastrophe which will serve to illustrate in a striking degree one of the perils of the postal service in the mail-coach era. The place where the event now to be described occurred, lies between Beattock and Elvanfoot (about five miles from the latter place), where the highway crosses the Evan Water, a stream which takes its rise near the sources of the Clyde, but whose waters are carried southward into Dumfriesshire. To be more precise, the situation is between two places called Raecleuch and Howcleuch, on the Carlisle road; and a bridge which now spans the water, in lieu of a former bridge, retains by association, to this day, the name of the "Broken Bridge."
It was at the breaking up of a severe storm of frost and snow, when the rivers were flooded to such an extent as had never been seen by the oldest people in the neighbourhood. The bridge had been but recently built; and though it was afterwards stated that the materials composing the mortar must have been of bad quality, no doubt would seem to have been entertained as to the security of the bridge. The night was dark, and accompanied by both wind and rain—elements which frequently usher in a state of thaw. The mail-coach having passed thesummit, was speeding along at a good round pace, the "outsiders" doubtless making themselves as comfortable as circumstances would allow, while the "insides," as we might imagine, had composed themselves into some semblance of sleep, the time being betweennine and ten o'clock, when, suddenly and without warning, the whole equipage—horses, coach, driver, guard, and passengers—on reaching the middle of the bridge, went headlong precipitate into the swollen stream through a chasm left by the collapse of the arch. It is by no means easy to realise what the thoughts would be of those concerned in this dreadful experience—pitched into a roaring torrent, in a most lonely place, at a late hour on such a night. The actual results were, however, very serious. The two leading horses were killed outright by the fall, while one of the wheelers was killed by a heavy stone descending upon it from the still impending portions of the wrecked structure. The coach and harness also were utterly destroyed. But, worse still, two outside passengers, one a Mr Lund, a partner in a London house, and the other named Brand, a merchant in Ecclefechan, were killed on the spot, while a lady and three gentlemen who were inside passengers miraculously escaped with their lives, though they were severely bruised. The lady, who had scrambled out of the vehicle, sought refuge on a rock in mid-stream, there remaining prisoner for a time; and by her means a second catastrophe of a similar kind was happily averted. The mail from Carlisle for Glasgow usually exchanged "Good-night" with the south-going coach, when they were running to time, just about the scene of the accident. Fortunately the coach from Carlisle was rather late; but when it did arrive, the lady on the rock, seeing the lights approach, screamed aloud, and thus warned the driver to draw up in time. Succour was now at hand. Something ludicrous generally finds itself in company with whatever is of a tragic nature. The guard of the Carlisle coach was let down to the place where the lady was, by means of the reins taken from the horses.HughieCampbell—that was the guard's name—when deliberating upon the plan of rescue, had some delicacy as to how heshould affix the reins to the person of the lady, and called up to those above, "Where will I grip her?" But before he could be otherwise advised, the lady, long enough already on the rock, broke in, "Grip me where you like, but grip me firm," which observation at once removed Hughie's difficulty, and set his scruples at ease. The driver of the wrecked coach, Alexander Cooper, was at first thought to have been carried away; but he was afterwards found caught between two stones in the river. He survived the accident only a few weeks—serious injuries to his back proving fatal. As for the guard, Thomas Kinghorn, he was severely cut about the head, but eventually recovered.
It was usual for the coachman and guard over this wild and exposed road to be strapped to their seats in stormy weather; but on this occasion Kinghorn, as it happened, was not strapped, and to this circumstance he attributed his escape from death. When the mail went down, he was sent flying over the bridge, and alighted clear from the wreck of the coach. The dead passengers and the wounded persons were taken by the other coach into Moffat.
It may be added that the fourth horse was got out of its predicament little the worse for the fall, and continued to run for many a day over the same road; but it was always observed to evince great nervousness and excitement whenever it approached the scene of the accident.
Yet the mail-coach days had charms and attractions for travellers, if they at the same time had their drawbacks: the bustle and excitement of the start, when the horses were loosed and the driver let them have rein, under the eyes of interested and admiring spectators; the exhilarating gallop as a good pace was achieved on the open country-road; the keen relish of the meals, more especially of breakfast, at the neatly kept and hospitable inn; the blithe note of the guard's horn, as a turnpike-gate or the end of astage was approached; and the hurried changing of horses from time to time as the journey progressed. Ever-varying scene is the characteristic of the occasion: the village with its rustic quiet, and odd characters, who were sure to present themselves as the coach flew by; the fresh and blooming fields; the soft and pastoral downs; the scented hedgerows in May and June; the stretches of road embowered with wood, affording a grateful shade in warm weather; the farmer's children swinging on a gate or over-topping a fence, and cheering lustily with their small voices as the coach swept along. And then, the hours of twilight being past, when
"Day hath put on his jacket, and aroundHis burning bosom buttoned it with stars,"
the eeriness of a night-journey would be experienced. During hard frost the clear ring of the horses' feet would be heard upon the road; the discomfort of fellow-passengers rolling about in their places, overcome by sleep, would be felt; while in the solemn dulness of the darker hours of night the monotony of the situation would be relieved at intervals, in the mineral districts, by miniature mountains of blazing coal, shedding their lurid glare upon the coach as it passed, and showing up the figures of soiled and dusky men employed thereat, thus creating a horrible impression upon the passengers, and seeming to afford an effective representation of Dante's shadowy world.
Or, on occasions of great national triumph—when, for example, some important victory crowned our arms—the coach, decked out with ribbons or green leaves, would be the bearer of the joyful and intoxicating news down into the country,—the driver and guard, as the official representatives of the Crown, being the heroes of the hour.
But it may be of interest to learn what a mail-coachjourney was from one who had just completed such a trip, and who, in the freshness of youth, and with the unreserve which can only subsist in correspondence between members of a family or dear friends, immediately commits his impressions to writing. We have a vivid sketch of a journey of this kind from no less a personage than Felix Mendelssohn, the great musical composer. Mendelssohn was at the time a young man of twenty: he had been making a tour in Scotland with his friend Klingemann—the visit being that from which, by the way, Mendelssohn derived inspiration for the composition of his delightful Scotch symphony; and the means by which he quitted the northern kingdom was by mail-coach from Glasgow to Liverpool. The following letter, descriptive of the journey, and dated August 19, 1829, is copied from an interesting work called 'The Mendelssohn Family':—
"We flew away from Glasgow on the top of the mail, ten miles an hour, past steaming meadows and smoking chimneys, to the Cumberland lakes, to Keswick, Kendal, and the prettiest towns and villages. The whole country is like a drawing-room. The rocky walls are papered with bushes, moss, and firs; the trees are carefully wrapped up in ivy; there are no walls or fences, only high hedges, and you see them all the way up flat hill-tops. On all sides carriages full of travellers fly along the roads; the corn stands in sheaves; slopes, hills, precipices, are all covered with thick, warm foliage. Then again our eyes dwelt on the dark-blue English distance—many a noble castle, and so on, until we reached Ambleside. There the sky turned gloomy again, and we had rain and storm. Sitting on the top of the 'stage,' and madly careering along ravines, past lakes, up-hill, down-hill, wrapped in cloaks, and umbrellas up, we could see nothing but railings, heaps of stones or ditches, and but rarely catch glimpses of hills and lakes.Sometimes our umbrellas scraped against the roofs of the houses, and then, wet through, we would come to a second-rate inn, with a high blazing fire, and English conversation about walking, coals, supper, the weather, and Bonaparte. Yesterday our seats on the coach were accidentally separated, so that I hardly spoke to Klingemann, for changing horses was done in about forty seconds. I sat on the box next by the coachman, who asked me whether I flirted much, and made me talk a good deal, and taught me the slang of horsemanship. Klingemann sat next to two old women, with whom he shared his umbrella. Again manufactories, meadows, parks, provincial towns, here a canal, there a railway, then the sea with ships, six full coaches with towering outsiders following each other; in the evening a thick fog, the stage running madly in the darkness. Through the fog we see lamps gleaming all about the horizon; the smoke of manufactories envelops us on all sides; gentlemen on horseback ride past; one coach-horn blows in B flat, another in D, others follow in the distance, and here we are at Liverpool."
Speed was of the first consideration, and the stoppages at the wayside stages were of very limited duration. At an inn, the travellers would hardly have made a fair start in appeasing their hunger, when the guard would be heard calling upon them to take their seats, which, with mouths full, and still hungry, they would be forced to do, though with a bad grace and a growl—the acknowledged privilege of Englishmen. A story is told of one passenger, however, who was equal to the occasion. Leisurely sipping his tea and eating his toast, this traveller was found by the landlord in the breakfast-room when the other passengers were seated and the coach was on the point of starting. Boniface appealed to him to take his place, or he would be left behind. "But," replied the traveller, "thatI willnot do till I have a spoon to sup my egg." A glance apprised the landlord that not a spoon adorned the table, and rushing out he detained the coach while all the passengers were searched for the missing articles. Then out came the satisfied traveller, who also submitted to be searched, and afterwards mounted the coach; and as the mail drove off he called to the landlord to look inside the teapot, where the artful traveller had placed the dozen spoons, with the double object of cooling the tea for his second cup, and detaining the coach till he drank it.
The illustration here inserted, from an old print, shows a passenger securing refreshment on a cold night.
Nocturnal Refreshment.
Nocturnal Refreshment.
In the year 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; in the opposite direction the time was curtailed to forty-two and a half hours. From London to York, 197 miles, twenty hours were allowed; London to Manchester, 185 miles, nineteen hours; London to Exeter, 176 miles, nineteen hours; London to Holyhead, 259 miles, twenty-seven hours; London to Devonport, 216 miles, twenty-one hours. But in the earlier days of the mail-coach, travelling was much less rapid; for we find that in 1804 the mail-coach from Perth to Edinburgh, a distance by way of Fife of 40 miles, took eight hours for the journey, including stoppages and the transit by Ferry across the Forth—that is, at the rate of five miles an hour. The mail-guards rode about twelve hours at a stretch—quite long enough, in all conscience, on a wet or frosty night.
But though in the earlier days of the mail-coaches the speed achieved by them, even on the main lines, was probably not more than seven or eight miles an hour, thepeople at head-quarters would seem to have regarded this as a thing not to be trifled with; for in a Postmaster-General's minute of 1791, directing that, owing to the frequent robberies, a caution should be given to the public against sending bank notes otherwise than in halves, the following bit of advice is added. The minute directs that the notice shall contain "also a printed caution at the foot of the Table, directing all persons to avoid, as far as may be, sending any cash by the post,partly from the prejudice it does the coin by the friction it occasions from the great expedition with which it is conveyed, and especially as the cash is so liable to fall out of the letter by jolting, and to be found at the bottom of the bag," &c. It would be a species of high treason to treat with levity any kind of expression or decision proceeding from a reigning Postmaster-General, but at this safe distance of time we may venture to smile at the idea here propounded, that coins would seriously suffer bysweatingin a mail-bag conveyed by coach at the surprising rate of eight miles an hour. Such ill-founded apprehensions of the mail-coach speed were not, however, confined to post officials, for Lord Campbell was frequently warned against the danger of travelling in this way, and instances were cited to him in which passengers died from apoplexy induced by the rapidity with which these vehicles travelled!
An incident of a romantic nature happened about the year 1780 in connection with the stage-coach (not a mail-coach, however, be it noted) running between Edinburgh and Glasgow at that period. The stage-coach, drawn by four horses, had been on the road for many years, having been established about the year 1758. The time occupied in the journey was twelve hours; nor, down to the period in question, had any acceleration taken place. A young lady of Glasgow, of distinguished beauty, having to travelto Edinburgh, a lover whose suit towards her had not hitherto proved successful, took the remaining tickets for the journey, and so became her sole companion on the way. By assiduous attentions, and all the winsome ways which the tender passion knows to suggest, as well as by earnestness of pursuit, the lover won the lady to his favour, and she soon thereafter became his wife. But the full day did not justify the brightness of the morning: the husband failed to prove himself worthy of his good fortune; "and the lady, in a state worse than widowhood, was, a few years after, the subject of the celebrated Clarinda correspondence of Burns."
In addition to the obvious duties of the mail-guards—to protect the mails and carry out their exchange at the several stations—they were sometimes required to perform special duties unconnected with Post-office work. They were, for example, called upon to keep watch in the early part of the present century upon French prisoners of war who might be breaking their parole, a likely way of escaping being by the mail-coaches. The guards were instructed to question any suspicious foreigner travelling by the coach, and to report the matter to the postmaster at the first town at which they arrived. This was doubtless looked upon as a pleasure rather than as a hardship; for they were reminded that the usual reward was ten guineas each—not a bad price for a Frenchman under the circumstances.
No record of the mail-coach days would be complete without a description of the annual procession of mail-coaches which used to be held in the metropolis on the monarch's birthday. As every corporation or society has its saint's day, or yearly festival, so the Jehus of the Post-office were not without theirs; an occasion on which they showed themselves to advantage, and drew admiring crowds to behold them. The following account of one of thesedisplays is from the 'Annals of the Road,' a work of great interest on subjects connected with coaching generally; and as the description is given with spirit and apparent truthfulness, we cannot do better than give it at length, and in this way bring the present chapter to a close:—
"The great day of the year was the King's birthday, when a goodly procession of four-in-hands started from the great coach manufactory of Mr John Vidler, in the neighbourhood of Millbank, and wended its way to St Martin's-le-Grand. Splendid in fresh paint and varnish, gold lettering and Royal arms, they were the perfection of neatness and practical utility in build, horsed to perfection, andleatheredto match. They were driven by coachmen who, as well as the guards behind, were arrayed in spick-and-span new scarlet and gold. No delicate bouquets, but mighty nosegays of the size of a cabbage, adorned the breasts of these portly mail coachmen and guards, while bunches of cabbage-roses decorated the heads of the proud steeds. In the cramped interior of the vehicles 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-coloured or scarlet silks. On this great occasion the guard was allowed two seats and the coachman two, no one allowed on the roof. 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?' This key-bugle was no part of the mail equipment, but was nevertheless frequently used.
"Heading the procession was the oldest-established mail, which would be the Bristol. On the King's birthday,1834, there were 27 coaches in the procession. They all wore hammer-cloths, and both guard and coachman were in red liveries, the latter being furnished by the mail contractor. They wore beaver hats with gold lace and cockades. Such a thing as a low billycock hat was not to be seen on any coach anywhere. Sherman's mails were drawn by black horses, and on these occasions their harness was of red morocco.
St Martin's-le-Grand
St Martin's-le-Grand in the Coaching Days
"The coaches were new each year. In these days brass mountings were rarely known; plated or silver only were in use. On the starting of the procession, the bells of the neighbouring churches rang out merrily, continuing their rejoicing peals till it arrived at the General Post-office. Many country squires, who were always anxious that their best horses should have a few turns in the mail-coaches in travelling, sent up their horses to figure in the procession.
"From Millbank the procession passed by St James's Palace, at the windows of which, above the porch, stood King William and his Queen. The Duke of Richmond(then Postmaster-General) and the Duke of Wellington stood there also. Each coach as it passed saluted the King, the coachman and guard standing up and taking off their hats. The appearance of the smart coaches, emblazoned with the Royal arms, orders, &c., coachman and guard got up to every advantage, with their nosegays stuck in their brand-new scarlet liveries, was at this point strikingly grand. The inspectors of mail-coaches rode in front of the procession on horseback."
"I know of no more universally popular personage than this humble official. Bearer of love-letters, Post-office orders, cheques, little carefully tied packages, all the more charming that it is difficult to get at their contents, it is who shall be first to open the door to him. He is welcomed everywhere; smiling faces greet him at every door. In England, the postman is the hero of Christmas time; so he strikes the iron while it is hot, and on Boxing-day comes round to ask for a reward, which all are ready to give without grudging."—Max O'Rell in 'John Bull and his Island.'
Though in former times foot-messengers—or, as they are called, post-runners—were employed to convey many of the principal mails over long stretches of country, their work in this way has been almost wholly superseded by the railway and by horse-posts; and while post-runners are perhaps now numerically stronger than they ever were, their work is principally confined nowadays to what may be termed the capillary service of the Post-office. They are chiefly employed in conveying correspondence between country towns and the outlying points forming the outskirts or fringes of inhabited districts. These men have in many cases very arduous work, being required to walk from sixteen to twenty-four miles a-day; and it is not improbable that the circumstances of these later times make the duties more trying in some respects than they were formerly. For the messengers are so timed for arrival and departure thatthey are prevented from taking shelter on occasions of storm, and are obliged to plod on in spite of the elements; whereas in remote times, when a runner took several days to cover his ground, he could rest and take refuge at one stage, and make up lost time at another. Be this, however, as it may, it is the fact that very many post-runners die from that insidious disease, consumption.
In the year 1590, the magistrates of Aberdeen established a post for conveying their despatches to and from Edinburgh, and other places where the royal residence might for the time be. This institution was called the "Council Post"; and the messenger was dressed in a garment of blue cloth, with the armorial bearings of the town worked in silver on his right sleeve. In the year 1715, there was not a single horse-post in Scotland, all the mails being conveyed by runners on foot; and the ground covered by these posts extended from Edinburgh as far north as Thurso, and westward as far as Inveraray. About the year 1750, an improved plan of forwarding the mails was introduced in Scotland by the horse-posts proceeding only from stage to stage—the mails being transferred to a fresh postboy at each point; but in the majority of cases the mails were still carried by foot-runners. Before the change of system the plan of proceeding was this, taking the north road as an example: "A person set out with the mail from Edinburgh to Aberdeen: he did not travel a stage and then deliver the mail to another postboy, but went on to Dundee, where he rested the first night; to Montrose, where he stayed the second; and on the third he arrived at Aberdeen; and as he passed by Kinghorn, it behoved the tide, and sometimes also the weather, to render the time of his arrival more late and uncertain."
The plan of conveying mails by the same runners over long distances continued much later, however; for we findthat in 1799 a post-runner travelled from Inverness to Lochcarron—a distance across country as the crow flies of about fifty miles—making the journey once a-week, for which he was paid five shillings. Another messenger at the same period made the journey from Inverness to Dunvegan in Skye—a much greater distance—also once a-week, the hebdomadal stipend in this instance being seven shillings and sixpence.
As with the postboys, so with the runners; the surveyors seem to have had some trouble in keeping them to their prescribed duties, as will be gathered from the following report written in the year 1800: "I found it had been the general practice for the post from Bonaw to Appin to lodge regularly all night at or near the house of Ardchattan, and did not cross Shien till the following morning, losing twelve hours to the Appin, Strontian, and Fort William districts of country; and I consider it an improvement of itself to remove such private lodgings or accommodations out of the way of posts, which, as I have been informed, is sometimes done for the sake of perusing newspapers, as well as answering or writing letters."
Nor was the speed of the foot-posts—in some cases, at any rate—very much to boast of, these humble messengers being at times heavily weighted with the correspondence they had to carry. In the year 1805, before the Dumbarton to Inveraray mail service was raised to the dignity of a horse-post, the surveyor, in referring to the necessity for the employment of horses, thus deplores the situation: "I have sometimes observed these mails, at leaving Dumbarton, about three stones or forty-eight pounds weight, and they are generally above two stones. During the course of last winter, horses were obliged to be occasionally employed; and it is often the case that a strong Highlander, with so great weight on him, cannot travel more thantwo miles an hour,which greatly retards the general correspondence of this extensive district of country."
In winter-time, and on occasions of severe storms, the post-runners have sometimes to endure great fatigue; and it is then that their loyalty to the service is put to the test. An instance of stern fidelity to duty on the part of one of these men, at the time of the snowstorm of 1836, formed the subject of a petition to the Postmaster-General from the inhabitants of Sheerness and the Isle of Sheppy.
The document recites that a foot-messenger named John Wright continued for nine days, from the 25th December 1836, to carry the mails between Sheerness and Sittingbourne—a distance for the double journey of about twenty-four miles. At the end of this time he was so completely exhausted and overcome by the effects of cold and exposure, that he had to give up duty for a time. The memorial sets forth that "the road is circuitous and crooked, through marshes, and very exposed, without any protection from the drift (in many places very deep), and with a ditch on either side—the water of which was frozen just sufficient to bear the weight of the snow, thereby rendering the travelling extremely hazardous, inasmuch as the dangers were in a great measure unseen; and had the postman mistaken his road (which from the frequent drifting of the snow, and the absence of traffic at that time was often untracked), and fallen into one of these ditches, he must no doubt have perished." It appeared further, that between the two places there was a ferry which the postman had to cross, and that in making the passage on the night of the 25th December, the boat in which he was nearly swamped, and he "was compelled to escape through mud and water up to his waist." It is not an uncommon thing for messengers to lose their lives in the discharge of their duties, and a severewinter seldom passes without some fatality of this kind. In the winter of 1876-77, a sad accident befell a messenger employed in Northumberland. On a night of intense darkness and storm, this man turned off the usual road in order to avoid crossing a swollen stream; and subsequently losing his way, he sank down and died, overcome by exposure and fatigue. In another case a messenger at Lochcarron, in Scotland, being unable to pursue his usual route over a mountain 2000 feet high, on account of a heavy fall of snow, proceeded by water to complete his journey; but the boat which he had engaged capsized, and both the messenger and two other persons who accompanied him were drowned. A few years ago, on the evening of Christmas-day, a rural messenger at Bannow, in Ireland, while on his return journey along a narrow path flanked on each side by a deep ditch, is believed to have been tripped by a furze-root, and being precipitated into one of the ditches, was unfortunately drowned. The rural post-messengers having, moreover, to visit isolated houses along their route, are exposed to the attacks of dogs kept about the premises. A few years ago a rural messenger was delivering letters at a farmhouse, when he was severely bitten by a retriever dog, and he died six weeks afterwards from tetanus.
It is perhaps in the Western Highlands and Islands of Scotland that the most trying conditions for the rural messengers present themselves. From Ullapool to Coigach and Rieff in Ross-shire, for example, a journey of twenty-six miles, the messenger travels out one day, and back again the next. Proceeding from Ullapool, the main road is followed for about three miles, when the man strikes off into the hills, and after a time reaches a river. This he is enabled sometimes to cross by means of stepping-stones; but so often does the water cover these, that he is generally obliged to ford it, and in doing so gets himself thoroughlywet. Then he pursues a course along or over one of the most dangerous rocks in Scotland for a distance of three or four miles, the rock in some places being so precipitous that he is obliged to cling to it for dear life.2After passing this rock he continues some distance further over the hills, and ultimately regains the main road, by which he completes his journey. Apart altogether from the dangerous character of the road, the distance which the post-runner has to walk day after day must necessarily be severe and trying work.
From Lochmaddy to Castlebay there is a chain of posts seventy-five miles long, served partly by foot-messengers, partly by horse-posts, and partly by boats. The line is intersected by dangerous ferries, one between Kilbride and Barra being six miles wide, and exposed to the full force of the waves from the Atlantic. From Garrynahine to Miavaig, in the island of Lewis, there is another dangerous service, partly by foot-post and partly by boat, the distance being seventeen miles. The road lies all through bog—a dreary waste—while the sea portion is on a most exposed part of the coast.
These are a few instances of the laborious and dangerous services performed by the rural postmen. Their brother officers in the towns, though in many cases having quite hard enough work (Mr Anthony Trollope tells that the hardest day's work he ever did in his life was accompanying a Glasgow postman up and down stairs on his beat), have not the exposure of the men in the country; and as they are familiar to the eyes of every one, any special notice of them here would be out of place.
It may, however, be mentioned, that the men who formerly delivered letters in small towns were not always inthe pay of the Post-office or under its control. This appears by an official report of 1810, relating to the town service of Greenock, which runs as follows: "As the Greenock letter-carrier is not paid by Government, northeirappointment properly in us, they are of course elected by the magistrates or inhabitants of the town, who have the right to choose their own carriers, or call for their letters at the office."