Extraordinary coincidences have been chronicled in connection with almost every situation in life, some fortunate and attended with profit to those involved, others unfortunate or disastrous; and the Post-office is no exception to the rule as being a field for the observation of such occurrences. The peculiar nature of the coincidences to be observed in the following examples may be worthy of note, or at any rate the cases may repay their perusal with some small degree of interest:—
"Among the workmen employed in some alterations at a nobleman's country seat were two bearing exactly the same Christian name and surname, but unconnected and unacquainted with each other, one being a joiner, the other a mason. The joiner, who was a depositor in the Post-office Savings' Bank, having received no acknowledgment of a deposit of £3, obtained a duplicate. The mason, who was not a depositor, became insane and was removed to a lunatic asylum about the same time; and the original acknowledgment, intended for the joiner, having fallen into the hands of the mason's mother, she concluded that the account was his, and made a claim for the money towards defraying the expenses of his maintenance, and was with difficulty undeceived."
A registered packet containing a valuable gold seal was sent to a firm of fancy stationers in Newcastle-on-Tyne, and delivered at its address in due course. Complaint was shortly afterwards made, however, that the young person who opened the packet found the seal was not enclosed, and inquiries were at once set on foot in the Post-office to discover how and where it could have been abstracted. A week or two after, and while these inquiries were still proceeding, the firm in question reported that a tradesman in town had presented to them the identical seal, with the view of ascertaining its value! This information served as a clue to the elucidation of the matter, and the loss of the seal was shown to have occurred in the following fashion:—In the process of opening the packet, the young person concerned had carelessly allowed the seal to fall, unobserved by her; it got mixed up with waste-paper, which formed part of some waste shortly thereafter removed to the premises of a marine-store dealer, where it underwent a course of sortation. An old woman engaged in this work found the seal, appropriated it, and without more ado pawned it. The person with whom it was pledged was he who presented it at the address where it had dropped from the letter. The coincidence is not only a curious one, but the case illustrates how, but for the coincidence, the blame of the loss would have rested on the Post-office.
A traveller in the north of Europe became sadly puzzled with letters which followed him about, although not intended for him, and the difficulties in his case are described in a letter written by him, of which the following is a transcript:—
"I am sorry you have had so much trouble respecting the registered letter supposed to have been lost in transmission from my wife to me in ——. But I assure youthe letter was most carefully and punctually delivered, not having been even a post behind its due time, and I think your case can hardly have referred to me at all. There was another Rev. J—— D—— (the same name) travelling in Norway at the same time, whose letters kept crossing my path everywhere; and when I read them, I was almost in doubt whether I was myself or him, for his wife had the same name as mine, and his baby the same name as mine, and just the same age; but who he can be I cannot make out, only he is not I. Perhaps the registered letter which has given you such trouble may have been for him. It may satisfy you, however, to know that mine was all right."
The following incident occurred about twenty years ago. A gentleman of the uncommon name of Onions was travelling in Scotland, and was expected by his friends to call at a certain Post-office for letters on a particular day. The day prior to this, a telegram reached this Post-office from his home in the south of England, requesting that he might be told to return at once, owing to the serious illness of his brother. The telegram upon its receipt was duly placed in the proper box by the clerk in charge of theposte restanteat the time, and who of course, the telegram being open, was aware of its contents. Next day, when the same clerk was upon duty, a Mr Onions presented himself, asking for letters; but the clerk, on going to the box to get the aforesaid telegram, was unable to find it, nor could any one in the office at the time say anything about it. Mr Onions was, however, informed of its import, whereupon he said he had no brother, but as his father had been ailing when he left, he supposed a mistake of "brother" for "father" had been made in transmission, and that the message was no doubt intended for him. He then left the office. A few days later the postmaster received a letterfrom this gentleman, then in the south of England, stating that he had been made the victim of a cruel hoax (he having found on reaching home that no telegram had been sent to him), and he was the more convinced of this because his visit to Scotland was in pursuance of his honeymoon.
The matter being investigated, it transpired that on the morning of the day on which Mr Onions called for letters, another Mr Onions, for whom the message was meant, had called and received the telegram from a clerk who shortly thereafter went off duty. The confusion had thus arisen through two persons of the same uncommon name calling at the same Post-office on the same day for letters, and, as it happened, applying for their letters at hours when two different clerks were in attendance.
In the following case the names are fictitious, but in their similarity they will adequately illustrate the narrative:—
The sudden expansion of telegraph business upon the transfer of the telegraphs to the State in 1870, necessitated the employment of a large number of inexperienced operators, and some awkward blunders were the consequence. In the year mentioned, a Liverpool man named Parlane went to London; but before parting with his wife, it was arranged that on a certain day he would telegraph whether she should join him in London or he would return to Liverpool. On the appointed day the promised telegram was sent asking his wife to come to London, the message being directed (we shall say) to Mrs Parlane, 24 Menzies Street, Toxteth Park, Liverpool. By some accidental failure of current, or imperfect signalling the word "Menzies"6reached Liverpool as "Meins,"6and there being no Meins Street in Liverpool, the messenger was directed to take the message for trial toMain Street, for which it was thought it might be intended. The messenger found at 24 Main Street6a Mrs M'Farlane, and to this person the message was presented. The names being similar, Mrs M'Farlane opened the telegram, and her husband also being in London, she had no doubt whatever that the command which it contained to repair to London, though altogether unexpected, was intended for herself. That evening she accordingly started for the metropolis.
Meanwhile Mrs Parlane had been suffering intense anxiety at not receiving the promised telegram, and being unable longer to endure the suspense in which she found herself, she likewise started for London the same evening. Strange as it may appear, both Mrs Parlane and Mrs M'Farlane travelled to London not only by the same train, but in the same compartment; and it was by a comparison of notes that the telegram intended for the one was discovered to have got into the hands of the other. The string of coincidences in this matter is exceedingly singular—viz., that two persons of similar names should reside at the same number in neighbouring streets; that the husbands of both should be in London at the same time; that the two wives should travel to London in the same train; and that they should find themselves companions in the same compartment.
Identity in names and addresses in all particulars sometimes gives rise to trouble and inconvenience. Through the misdelivery of a savings-bank acknowledgment, it was brought to light that in a suburban district of London, where there were two terraces bearing exactly the same designation, there were residing, at the same number in each, two persons having, not only the same surname, but the same Christian name.
But even more curious are the following facts in the matter of similar names and addresses, though in this instance nothing of ill-consequence has yet arisen beyond the occasional misdelivery of a letter. In Edinburgh at the present time (1885), there resides at 5 St Andrew's Terrace a Mr James Gibson, and, immediately opposite, at 5 St Andrew's Place, another Mr James Gibson. It happens, also, that a Mr John Gibson is to be found at 5 St Andrew Square. Hence we have this very singular series of almost identical addresses, the persons concerned being all different, and, so far as we are aware, unacquainted with each other:—
(1) Mr J. Gibson,5 St Andrew's Terrace.(2) Mr J. Gibson,5 St Andrew's Place.(3) Mr J. Gibson,5 St Andrew Square.
In consequence of the misdelivery of a post-packet, the following case of almost identical addresses in two different towns was brought under notice:—
Mr Andrew Thom,Boot Maker,8 South Bridge Street,Airdrie.
AndMr Andrew Thom,Boot Top Manufacturer,86 South Bridge,Edinburgh.
Not very long ago, two letters directed to Mrs R—— at her residence in Edinburgh were duly delivered there; but as the lady was at the time living at the Grand Hotel in London, they were placed under a fresh cover by one of her family and forwarded thither. Some days thereafterthe Postmaster of Glasgow received a communication from a Mrs R—— (the same name), residing at the Grand Hotel, expressing great astonishment that the two letters, which she now returned, had been sent to her, since her permanent address was not in Edinburgh, but Glasgow. The matter was afterwards explained, on the fact becoming known that two ladies of the same name, one hailing from Glasgow, the other from Edinburgh, had been living at the same time in the same hotel, and that the waiter had delivered the letters to the wrong person.
With persons who deposit their hard-earned savings in the Post-office Savings Bank, there is sometimes observed a disposition, not to be wondered at in their case, to use more than ordinary care in keeping their savings secret,—which care, however, does not always secure the aim which they have in view, but results in quite a different fashion.
A domestic servant who had invested in a Trustee Savings Bank about £100, entered the holy bonds of matrimony in 1826, when it might have been expected she would be ready to admit the man of her choice to a knowledge of her monetary worth; but instead of doing so, she concealed this matter from him, and he remained ignorant of it throughout the remainder of his life. The sum at her credit in the Trustee Savings Bank was afterwards transferred to the Post-office Savings Bank, and by dint of saving she added to that amount nearly £50 more. At length, in 1862, after thirty-six years of married life, she died, leaving her husband with three children, but without revealing what she had so jealously guarded, in the interest, no doubt, of her children. Not many months thereafter the man married again. The second wife seems by some means to have come to a knowledge of her predecessor's savings, and in order to pave the way to future possession, prevailed upon the old man to make a will in her favour, which he consented to do, not knowing that he was worth anything, and thus gratified a whim, as he might suppose, at small cost. The effect of this was, that, when the old man died, the second wife obtained the whole amount of the account, while the poor children, whose mother had kept her secret so many years in their interest, derived no benefit whatever from the savings which she had hoped to leave them.
An Irishman who had managed to get some savings together in the savings bank was exercised as to the safe-keeping of his deposit-book, and he adopted the following plan to give himself peace of mind on this score:—First of all, he placed his book inside a box, which he then locked. This box he placed inside a second box, which he locked likewise. Continuing the series of operations, he locked the second box inside a third box; and then, to crown the business, hung up all the keys in a place where they were accessible to many persons. In a short time the book disappeared, and by forging the signature of the rightful owner, the thief succeeded in obtaining payment of the poor Irishman's deposits to the amount of about £100. This unfortunate depositor is a type of a considerable class of persons, who show themselves capable of carrying out plans to a certain stage, but fail in some one particular to give them the completeness necessary to success.
Another individual who had some misgivings as to the safety of his deposit-book, suggested a plan for his identification, furnishing the necessary data, which were his age, and a statement that he had a scar under his left arm, known to himself alone. He desired that no one should be allowed to withdraw money from his account unless upon satisfactory information being given on these points.
In another instance a depositor proposed to send his likeness, with a view to his identification, lest some other person might get possession of his book, and so withdraw his savings. He then proceeded in his letter to touch upon another matter as follows:—"There are some little articles I would like to get from London, and one of them is some natural leaf-tobacco, which I would be glad if you sent me an ounce of, and charge me for it—it is only to be bought in the largest tobacco-stores." Not receiving the tobacco, he expressed surprise in a subsequent letter that his request had not been complied with, observing, by way of reproach perhaps, that "the commonest person in America (my country) can speak to General Grant, and there is nothing said wrong about it."
A good deal of trouble has to be taken in sifting claims for moneys in the Post-office Savings Bank—especially in cases where the persons concerned are of a poor and illiterate class. The following may be taken as a case in point:—
"An account had been opened in a manufacturing town in Yorkshire in 1868 by a girl who was described as a minor over seven years of age. Only one deposit was made; and nothing further was heard of the account until 1872, when a labourer wrote from Northumberland claiming the money as having been deposited by his wife, who had recently died. On a marriage certificate being forwarded, it was found that the marriage took place in 1851, and that the wife was thirty-five years of age at that time. The applicant also stated that he could swear to his wife's handwriting, whereas the depositor could not write. He was informed of these discrepancies, but still insisted that the money was deposited by his wife, and employed a lawyer to urge his claim."
Sometimes depositors mislay their deposit-books, or losethem altogether, and in course of time forget that they have anything lying at their credit. This is an instance of such a case:—A depositor, upon being reminded that he had not sent up his book for a periodical examination—the time for which was already past—replied that his book was lost, but that if there was any balance due to him, he would be glad to have the particulars. The amount due to him was upwards of £10; but as, when a depositor has lost his book, it is usual to test his knowledge of the account, this course was followed, when, from the answers received, it was made clear that he was entirely ignorant of the sum standing to his credit—and, indeed, that he believed his account to be closed. But for the notice sent to him in regard to his deposit-book, he would never have made any claim.
As might readily be supposed, strange communications are often received on savings-bank business—some quaint and curious, though written quite seriously, while others are evidently written with the intention of making fun; yet another class deriving their peculiarities from a too common cause—want of education. A few of such specimens are given as follows:—
A depositor being asked to furnish particulars of his account, the reply received from some one who had opened the letter on his behalf was to this effect:—"He is a tall man, deeply marked with smallpox, has one eye, wears a billycock, and keeps a pea-booth at Lincoln Fair,"—a description ample enough, and one that would rejoice the heart of a detective.
The envelopes supplied to depositors, in which they send their books to headquarters, have within the flap a space provided to receive the depositor's address, and the request is printed underneath—"State here whether the above address is permanent." This request has called forth suchrejoinders as these—"Here we have no continuing city," "This is not our rest," "Heaven is our home," "Yes,D. V." In one case the reply was "No,D. V., for the place is beastly damp and unhealthy;" while another depositor, being floored by the wording of the inquiry, wrote—"Doant know what permanent is"!
When deposit-books are lost or destroyed, some explanation is usually forthcoming as to how the circumstance occurred, and some of these statements are of a very curious kind. Thus a person employed in a travelling circus accounted for the loss of his book in these terms: "Last night, when I was sleeping in the tent, one of our elephants broke loose and tore up my coat, in the pocket of which was my bank-book, and eat part of it. I enclose the fragments." In another case the statement furnished was: "I think the children has taken it out of doors and lost it, as they are in the habbit of playing shutal cock with the backs of books." Another depositor said that his book was "supposed to have been taken from the house by our tame monkey." While in a further case the explanation vouchsafed was as follows: "I was in a yard feeding my pigs. I took off my coat and left it down on a barrell; while engaged doing so, a goat in the yard pulled it down. The book falling out, the goat was chewing it when I caught her." A sergeant in the army lost his book "whilst in the act of measuring a recruit for the army,"—a circumstance which is, perhaps, not creditable to the recruit. A needy depositor pledged his coat, forgetting, however, to withdraw his deposit-book, which was in one of the pockets. On applying to redeem his property, he found that the coat had been mislaid by the pawnbroker, and that his book was thus lost. In a somewhat similar way another depositor accounted for his loss "through putting the book in an old coat-pocket, and selling the coat without taking out thebook again." It was suggested that he should apply to the person who purchased the coat, when he replied that he had been "to the rag merchant," but could find no trace of his book. On another occasion a depositor explained that his book had been mutilated by a cat. Another book, which was kept in a strong box in a pigsty, had been destroyed by the tenant—a pig. While in yet another case the depositor explained that "his little puppy of a dog got hold of it and tore it all to pieces—not leaving so much as the number." A coast-guardsman employed on the Sussex coast, writing shortly after the occurrence of some severe storms, explained that his book had been washed away with the whole of his household effects. In a case of mutilation of a book, the following account of the circumstance was given by the owner: "In the early part of last year I was taken seriously ill away from home; and having my bank-book with me, I wrote in the margin in red ink what was to be done with the balance in case of a fatal result, and as a precaution against its being wrongfully claimed on my recovery, I cut this out."
These are some of the more curious instances of the loss of books—the loss being ordinarily ascribed either to change of residence, to the book being dropped in the street, or to its being burnt with waste-paper.
For many years past it has been incumbent upon all candidates seeking employment in the Post-office, as in other public departments, to undergo medical examination, with the view of securing healthy persons for the service; and in the course of such examinations the medical officer requires to make inquiry into the state of health of the candidates' parents, brothers, sisters, &c., the information being elicited in forms to be filled up by the candidates. Though it is not to be expected that persons entering as postmen, messengers, and so on, should exhibit perfection in their orthography, still, in referring to the more common troubles that afflict the human frame, some approach to an intelligible description of diseases might be hoped for. Dr Lewis, who held the post of medical officer in the General Post-office, London, for many years, recorded the following examples of answers received to his questions:—
"Father had sunstroke, and I caught it of him." "My little brother died of some funny name." "A great white cat drawed my sister's breath, and she died of it." A parent died of "Apperplexity"; another died of "Parasles." One "caught Tiber fever in the Hackney Road"; another had had "goarnders"; a third "burralger in the head." Some of the other complaints were described as "rummitanicpains," "carracatic fever," "indigestion of the lungs," "toncertina in the throat," "pistoles on the back." One candidate stated that "his sister was consumpted, now she's quite well again"; while the sister of another was stated to have "died of compulsion."
It is to be hoped that the work of the school boards will be seen in the absence of such answers from the medical officers' schedules of the future.
In addition to the medical scrutiny as to health, all candidates for service have to give satisfactory accounts in regard to their previous employment; and this is elicited by means of questions put to the candidate on what is known as the A. form.
The following are questions and answers in the case of a young lady candidate:—
Write your Christian and surname in full.Elizabeth B——
Your usual signature?Yours ever, Lizzie.
State how you have been employed since leaving school.Ans. Music and singing, and nursing dear mamma, who is an invalid!
Superstition.
Superstition rarely stands in the way of the extension of postal accommodation or convenience; but a case of the kind occurred some time ago in the west of Ireland. Application was made for the erection of a wall letter-box, and authority had been granted for setting it up; but when arrangements came to be made for providing for the collection of letters, no one could be found to undertake the duty, in consequence of a general belief among the poorer people in the neighbourhood that, at that particular spot, "a ghost went out nightly on parade." The ghost was stated to be a large white turkey without a head.
Curious Names.
Everything that departs from the usual mode or fashion of things is regarded as curious, and the term may be applied also to the incidence of names and professions, either in regard to their relative fitness of relationship, or to an opposite quality. As the sight of two or three individuals with wooden legs walking in company would be sure to claim our attention, if it did not excite our mirth,so the coming together of persons having similar names under the same roof by mere chance, would not fail to attract notice, and be thought a peculiar circumstance. Of the first class the following cases may be noted,—namely, that at Torquay, Devonshire, there used to be a butcher called Bovine; in the east of London there is a James Bull, a cow-keeper; and at Birnam, Perthshire, a gardener and strawberry-grower called John Rake. There is further, we are informed, at Cork a person carrying on the pawnbroking business whose name is Uncle, than which there could be nothing more appropriate. Of the second class the following is an instance, persons of the names given having been employed together in a single office of the General Post-office some years ago:—
Letter-box, St Martin's-le-Grand.
So much has it become the custom in these later times for the Post-office to afford facilities to the public in whatever will tend to increase the business of the Department, that in all large towns pillar-boxes or branch offices are dotted about everywhere at short distances, thus altering the conditions which formerly obtained, when the chief office was the great central point where correspondence had to be deposited for despatch. London is no exception to this general plan of accommodation, and there may be some lingering regrets that the stirring scenes which used to attend the closing of the letter-box at St Martin's-le-Grand (when the great hall led right through the building) no longer exist, at least as things worthy of note. Lewins,who wrote the History of the Post-office (Her Majesty's Mails), thus describes what nightly took place at the closing of the box at six o'clock:—
"The newspaper window, ever yawning for more, is presently surrounded and besieged by an array of boys of all ages and costumes, together with children of a larger growth, who are all alike pushing, heaving, and surging in one great mass. The window, with tremendous gape, is assaulted with showers of papers, which fly thicker and faster than the driven snow. Now it is, that small boys of eleven and twelve years of age, panting Sinbad-like under the weight of huge bundles of newspapers, manage somehow to dart about and make rapid sorties into other ranks of boys, utterly disregarding the cries of the official policemen, who vainly endeavour to reduce the tumult into something like Post-office order. If the lads cannot quietly and easily disembogue, they will whizz their missiles of intelligence over other people's heads, now and then sweeping off hats and caps with the force of shot. The gathering every moment increases in number, and intensifies in purpose; arms, legs, sacks, baskets, heads, bundles, and woollen comforters—for who ever saw a veritable newspaper boy without that appendage?—seem to be getting into a state of confusion and disagreeable communism, and yet 'the cry is still, they come.' Heaps of papers of widely opposed political views are thrown in together—no longer placed carefully in the openings; they are now sent in in sackfuls and basketfuls, while over the heads of the surging crowd were flying back the empty sacks, thrown out of the office by the porters inside. Semi-official legends, with a very strong smack of probability about them, tell of sundry boys being thrown in, seized, emptied, and thrown out again void. As six o'clock approaches still nearer and nearer, the turmoil increases more perceptibly, for theintelligent British public is fully alive to the awful truth that the Post-office officials never allow a minute of grace, and that 'Newspaper Fair' must be over when the last stroke of six is heard. One—in rush files of laggard boys, who have purposely loitered in the hope of a little pleasurable excitement; two—and grown men hurry in with the last sacks; three—the struggle resembles nothing so much as a pantomimicmêlée; four—a babel of tongues vociferating desperately; five—final and furious showers of papers, sacks, and bags; and six—when all the windows fall like so many swords of Damocles, and the slits close with such a sudden and simultaneous snap, that we naturally suppose it to be a part of the Post-office operations that attempts should be made to guillotine a score of hands; and then all is over, so far as the outsiders are concerned."
Though the tradition referred to of boys being thrown into the letter-box may not have a very sure foundation in fact, it is the case at any rate that a live dog was posted at Lombard Street, and falling into the bag attached to the letter-box, it was not discovered till the contents of the bag were emptied out on a table in the General Post-office.
Curious Explanations.
In the considerable army of servants who carry on the work of the Post-office, embracing all grades from the Postmaster-General to the rural postman, are to be found individuals of every temperament, character of mind, and disposition—the candid, the simple, the astute, the wary; and the peculiarities of the individuals assert themselves in their official dealings as surely as they would do in the ordinary connections of life.
The following "explanations" furnished by postmasters who had failed to send up their accounts at the propertime, will illustrate the procedure of the candid or simple when in trouble, who seem quite unnecessarily to give every detail of their shortcomings, instead of doing, as most men would do in the circumstances—make a general excuse:—
"My daily accounts would have reached you in time; but on Saturday morning, whilst purchasing American cheeses and sampling them, I tasted some of them, which brought on a bilious complaint, so that I was obliged to suspend work on Monday. Being now somewhat better, I trust all will go on right."
"I regret the daily accounts should have been delayed so long; but having some friends to see me, the accounts were forgotten."
"The Postmistress of ——, Cambridge, is very sorry that she has not sent her accounts before this; she will be sure to do so to-morrow. The delay is on account of her having three little motherless grandchildren staying with her for a few days."
The following will bear company with the three foregoing specimens. It is a pathetic appeal from a letter-receiver, who, mistaking the purpose for which a certain credit of official money was allowed him, spent it, and was unexpectedly called upon to account for the balance due by him to the head office:—
"Mr ——, Superintendent of the Money-order Department, called upon me yesterday, and dispelled a very mistaken notion of mine—viz., that as I had given a guarantee of £200, I was perfectly 'justifiable' in making use of a portion of the money received for my own business. I am now very sorry indeed that the idea had gained such an ascendancy over me as it had done. The letter I receivedfrom you a few days ago aroused me from that delusive lethargy into which I was sinking; and if you would have the kindness to compare the amount now with what it was then, you will perceive that an effort has been made to retrieve my folly.
"My object in writing this to you is an earnest appeal not to degrade me in the position I have struggled so hard to maintain through such distress as we have had, by suspending the business of the office. I beg and earnestly entreat of you to give me time to recover myself; and I assure you that under such a stimulation a vigorous effort will be made to place myself in that honourable position which it has been my desire to hold. Therefore, hoping that you will take a favourable view of the case, I subscribe myself, your contrite and obedient servant."
Prisoners of War.
The following incident, though not directly bearing upon Post-office matters, has a relation to letters. It forms the subject of a pathetic story, and brings into contrast the possible isolation of poor fellows who may be taken in war, with the rapid and constant intercourse kept up between the peoples of enlightened countries during times of peace by the intermediary of the Post-office. The facts are here quoted from a notice of the circumstance published in a local newspaper:—
"The extensive works for the manufacture of paper belonging to Alex. Cowan & Sons, at Valleyfield, near Edinburgh, were in 1811, owing to the dulness of trade, sold to Government, and converted into a prison for the French soldiers and sailors, of whom over 6000 were kept from 1811 to 1814, when peace was happily established between Britain and France. During these three years309 died, whose remains rest in a quiet spot near the mills. Of these, a list of the names, ages, and place of capture is preserved by Messrs Cowan. The mills were reacquired from Government about 1818, and are carried on as among the largest paper-mills of Britain by the same firm. In some repairs lately carried out at these works (1881) an old floor was lifted, and underneath was found a letter written by a prisoner, but which he was never able to despatch. A copy of this letter is annexed, as possibly some of the writer's relatives may see it and be interested by a perusal."
The French is not very good; but here it is:—
"Prison, Valleyfiel,16Mars, année1812.
"Mon cher Perre et ma cher Mère,—D'après plusieur lettre que je vous ecrives, étant en Angleterre, sans en avoir pu en recevoir aucune réponse. Je ne sais à quoi attribuer cette interuption, et depuis on va arrivez en Ecosse, je me suis toujours empressez pour vous donner de mes nouvelles, et qui a été bien impossible, à moins jusqu'à presens, d'en recevoir. Je désirai ardement d'en recevoir des votres, ainsi mon cherre père et ma cherre mère, je vous prie trêes umblement de prendre des procotions pour me donné de vos nouvelle, est des changement du pays, est dans ce qui est égale à mon égard, de la famille, seullement pour à l'égard de ma santé, elle a toujours etté bonne depuis mon de part. Je désire que la présente vous soient pareille, ainsi que mes frerre et seurre, paran, et ami, rien autre chose que je puis vous marqué pour le ——. Je soussignez Jean François Noel de Sariget, la Commune de Saint Leonard, Canton de Fraize, arrondissement de Saint Dies, Departemeant Voges. Monsieur Perigord Lafeste, Banquier à Paris, dans la Rue de Mont No. 9. Je soussignez Jean Nicolas Demange de Saint Leonard, Canton de Franche."
A handsome monument was erected in 1830 over the last resting-place of the poor prisoners who died during their period of captivity, and it bears the following inscription:—
"Près de ce lieu réposent les cendres de 309 prisonniers de guerre morts dans ce voisinage entre le 21 Mars 1811 et le 26 Juillet 1814.Nés pour bénir les vœux de vieillissantes mères,Par le sort appelésA devenir amants aimés, epoux, et pères,Ils sont morts exilés!"Plusieurs habitans de cette Paroisse aimant à croire que tous les hommes sont frères, firent élever ce monument l'an 1830."
Explosion in a Pillar-box.
A singular accident, though one not altogether unique in its character, befell one of the pillar letter-boxes in Montrose some years ago. A street had been opened up for the purpose of effecting repairs on the gas-pipes, and while the examination and repairs were in progress, some gas, escaping from the pipes, found its way into the letter-box. The night watchman, intending to light his pipe, struck a match on the box close to the aperture, when a violent explosion immediately followed, blowing out the door, and otherwise doing damage; but, luckily, neither the watchman nor the letters sustained any injury.
A Mother's Love.
The affection of mothers for their children has been a theme of tenderest writing in all ages; and innumerable effusions of this nature, more or less intense, are daily carried by the Post-office. The following is a case in point, the writing being observed on the back of a Christmas card.
"My dear Child,—Accept this little gift as a token of true friendship, fromYour mother."
The card was found in the Dead-letter office!
The Mulready Envelope.
The failure of the Mulready envelope to establish itself in public favour is surely a monument to the caprice of the national taste, if it be not an evidence of how readily the tide of thoughtless opposition may set in to reject that which is new or unusual, without serious grounds for dislike. A facsimile of the design is here given, the envelopes for sale being printed in two colours—black and blue.
The Mulready Envelope.
The Mulready Envelope.
It was introduced to the notice of the public at the time of the establishment of the penny postage, being intended to supply a desideratum in this respect, that the cover should serve the combined purposes of an envelope and a postage-stamp, the envelopes being good for a postage ofone penny or twopence, according as they were printed in black or blue.
Mulready, a member of the Royal Academy, was the artist, and the design had the approval of the Royal Academicians, so that it did not go forth without substantial recommendations. If the subjects be examined, it will be found that they are accurately drawn, ingeniously worked together, and apposite in their references to the beneficent work of the Post-office Department. Britannia sending forth her messengers to every quarter of the globe, ships upon the sea with sails unfurled ready to obey her instant behests, the reindeer as the emblem of speed in the regions of snow, intercourse with the nations of the East and of the West, and the blessings of cheap postage in its social aspects, are all suitably depicted. Yet the whole thing fell flat; the envelope drew down upon itself scorn and ridicule, and it had to be quickly withdrawn. In the end, it was necessary to provide special machinery to destroy the immense quantities of the envelope which had been prepared for issue.
It is amusing, however, to read the contemptuous and very funny criticisms which were showered upon the artist and Mr Rowland Hill by the newspapers of the day, in one of which the following remarks appear:—
"The envelopes and half-sheets have an engraved surface, extremely fantastic, and not less grotesque. In the centre, at the top, sits Britannia, throwing out her arms, as if in a tempest of fury, at four winged urchins, intended to represent postboys, letter-carriers, or Mercuries, but who, instead of making use of their wings and flying, appear in the act of striking out or swimming, which would have been natural enough if they had been furnished with fins instead of wings. On the right of Britannia there are a brace of elephants, all backed and ready to start, when some Hindoo,Chinese, Arabic, or Turkish merchants, standing quietly by, have closed their bargains and correspondence. The elephants are symbolic of the lightness and rapidity with which Mr Rowland Hill's penny postage is to be carried on, and perhaps, also, of the power requisite for transporting the £1500 a-year to his quarters, which is all he obtains for strutting about the Post-office with his hands in his pockets, and nothing to do, like a fish out of water. On the left of Britannia, who looks herself very much like a termagant, there is an agglomeration of native Indians, missionaries, Yankees, and casks of tobacco, with a sprinkling of foliage, and the rotten stem of a tree, not forgetting a little terrier dog inquisitively gliding between the legs of the mysterious conclave to see the row. Below, on the left, a couple of heads of the damsel tribe are curiously peering over a valentine just received (scene, Valentine's Day), whilst a little girl is pressing the elders for a sight of Cupid, and the heart transfixed with a score of arrows. On the right, again, stands a dutiful boy, reading to his anxious mamma an account of her husband's hapless shipwreck, who, with hands clasped, is blessing Rowland Hill for the cheap rate at which she gets the disastrous intelligence. With very great propriety the name of the artist is conspicuously placed in one corner, so that the public and posterity may know who is the worthy Oliver of the genius of a Rowland on this important occasion. As may well be imagined, it is no common man, for the mighty effort has taxed the powers of the Royal Academy itself, if the engraved announcement of W. Mulready, R.A., in the corner, may be credited. Considering the infinite drollery of the whole, the curious assortment of figures and faces; the harmoniousmélangeof elephants, mandarins' tails, Yankee beavers, naked Indians squatted with their hindquarters in front, Cherokee chiefs with feathered tuftsshaking missionaries by the hand; casks of Virginia threatening the heads of young ladies devouring their love-letters; and the old woman in the corner, with hands uplifted, blessing Lord Lichfield and Sir Rowland for the saving grace of 11d. out of the shilling, and valuing her absent husband's calamity or death as nothing in comparison with such an economy,—altogether, it may be said that this is a wondrous combination of pictorial genius, after which Phiz and Cruikshank must hide their diminished heads, for they can hardly be deemed worthy now of the inferior grade of associates and aspirants for Academic honours."
All this is excessively funny, and enables us to smile; but if the grounds of condemnation were of no more solid kind, we might venture the suggestion that the envelopes had hardly a fair trial at the bar of serious public judgment.
Lines on the Penny Postage.
The following lines were popular about the year 1840, when Sir Rowland Hill introduced the uniform penny rate of postage. The scheme was not looked upon hopefully in all quarters, and some persons predicted an early failure for it, while others only saw in the new departure grounds for ridicule or jest. These lines, which are certainly amusing, are said to be the production of Mr James Beaton:—
Something I want to write upon, to scare away each vapour—The "Penny Postage" shall I try? Why, yes, I'll write on paper.Thy great invention, Rowland Hill, each person loudly hails;The females they are full of it, and so are all the mails.This may be called the "Penny Age," and those who are not mulish,Are daily growing "penny wise," though not, I hope, pound foolish.We've penny blacking, penny plays, penny mags, for information,And now a "Penny Post," which proves we've lots of penetration.Their love-sick thoughts by this new act may Lucy, Jane, or Mary,Array in airy-diction from Johnson's dictionary.Each maid will for the postman watch the keyhole like a cat,And spring towards the door whene'er there comes a big rat-tat.And lots of paper will be used by every scribbling elf,That each should be a paper manufacturer himself.To serve all with ink enough they must have different plans;They must start an "Ink walk" just like milk, and serve it round in cans.The letters in St Valentine so vastly will amount,Postmen may judge them by the lot, they won't have time to count;They must bring round spades and measures, to poor love-sick soulsDeliver them by bushels, the same as they do coals.As billet-doux will so augment, the mails will be too small,So omnibuses they must use, or they can't carry all;And ladies pleasure will evince, instead of any fuss,To have their lovers' letters all delivered with a 'bus!Mail-coachmen are improving much in knowledge of the head,For like the letter which they take, they're themselves all over red.Postmen are "men of letters" too; each one's a learned talker,And 'cause he reads the diction'ry, the people call him "Walker."Handwriting now of every sort the connoisseur may meet;Though a running hand, I think, does most give postmen running feet.They who can't write will make their mark when they a line are dropping,And where orthography is lame, of course it will "come hopping."Invention is progressing so, and soon it will be seen,That conveyance will be quicker done than it has ever been;A plan's in agitation—as nought can genius fetter—To let us have the answer back, before they get the letter.
At the Stamp-counter.
A man who can stand at the stamp-counter and serve the public without fear and without reproach, must needs be possessed of a highly sweetened temper. What with the impatient demands of some, the unreasonable demurs of others, the tiresome iteration of questions propounded by the eccentric, and the attention required to be given to the Mrs Browns of society, not to mention the irritating remarks at times of the inconsiderate, the position behind the counter is one which calls for self-control and a large share of good-nature.
The sort of thing that has to be endured at the hands of
"Perfect woman, nobly planned,To warn, to comfort, and command,"
when she chooses to lay siege to the stamp-window, is thus described by an American writer, and the description is not to any great extent an exaggeration (if it be so at all) of experiences which are had in our own country in this particular direction:—
"Just about eleven o'clock yesterday forenoon there were thirteen men and one woman at the stamp-window of the Post-office. Most of the men had letters to post on the eastern trains. The woman had something tied up in a blue match-box. She got there first, and she held her position with her head in the window and both elbows on the shelf.
"'Is there such a place in this country as Cleveland?' she began.
"'Oh yes.'
"'Do you send mail there?'
"'Yes.'
"'Well, a woman living next door asked me to mail this box for her. I guess it's directed all right. She said it ought to go for a cent.'
"'Takes two cents,' said the clerk, after weighing it. 'If there is writing inside, it will be twelve cents.'
"'Mercy on me, but how you do charge!'
"Here the thirteen men began to push up and bustle around, and talk about the old match-box delaying two dozen business letters; but the woman had lots of time.
"'Then it will be two cents, eh?'
"'If there is no writing inside,' observed the clerk.
"'Well, there may be; I know she is a great hand towrite. She's sending some flower-seed to her sister, and I suppose she has told her how to plant 'em ——'
"'Two threes,' called out one of the crowd, as he tried to get at the window.
"'Hurry up!' cried another.
"'There ought to be a separate window here for women,' growled a third.
"'Then it will take twelve cents?' she calmly queried, as she fumbled around for her purse.
"'Yes.'
"'Well, I'd better pay it, I guess.'
"From one pocket she took two coppers, from her reticule she took a three-cent piece, from her purse she fished out a nickel; and it was only after a hunt of eighty seconds that she got the twelve cents together. She then consumed four minutes in licking on the stamps, asking where to post the box, and wondering if there was really any writing inside.
"But woman proposes and man disposes. Twenty thousand dollars worth of business was being detained by a twelve-cent woman, and a tidal wave suddenly took her away from the window. In sixty seconds the thirteen men had been waited on and gone their ways, and the woman returned to the window, handed in the box, and said, 'Them stamps are licked on crooked; it won't make any difference, will it?'"
The description furnished by Scott in the 'Antiquary' of the internal management of a country Post-office, as existing towards the close of last century, is extremely amusing and piquant; but the probability is that, while so much of what is said might be true to circumstances, the picture was heightened in colour for the purpose of literary effect. No doubt a certain amount of gossip emerged from such country offices, derived from the outsides and occasionally from the insides of letters; yet it is hardly likely that a group of curious women should have gathered together in the postmaster's room to make a general overhaul of the contents of the mail-bag, as is described in the case of the Post-office at Fairport. In small country towns in the present day, it is no uncommon thing to attribute the spread of "secrets" about the place to a breach of confidence at the Post-office, while the real fact is that things told by the persons concerned in strictest secrecy to their most intimate friends are by these communicated again to other kind friends, and so the ripple of information rolls on till there is no longer any secret at all, and the poor official at the Post-office is assumed to be the only possible offender. The smaller the place the greater is the thirst for neighbourly gossip, the more quickly does it spreadwhen out, and the more ready are those whose secrets ooze forth to point the finger of suspicion at the Post-office.
Every one knows what a small country Post-office is nowadays. When we seek change of air and relaxation in the holiday season, choice is made maybe of some little country village or seaside resort whereat to spend the few weeks at our disposal. If the place be aplaceat all, there we shall find a Post-office; but possibly there is no house-to-house delivery, and letters must be called for at the Post-office itself. As the post-hour approaches, groups of visitors take up positions near the office door, or squat themselves down on any patch of sward that may be conveniently near. Young ladies waited upon by their admirers, mothers with their children, a bachelor group or two from the inn, and here and there a native of the place, some expecting letters, others indulging a feeble hope in that direction, attend as assistants at what is one of the excitements of the day. Presently the post-runner, with his wallet slung upon his back and a rustic walking-stick in his hand, appears in the distance, jogging along with that steady swinging stride which is so characteristic of his class. The visitors begin to close up around the Post-office; in a few minutes the runner steps into it; he throws down his wallet of treasures on the counter, removes his faded and dusty hat, and with his coloured cotton handkerchief wipes the sweat from his soiled and heated face. Meanwhile the attention of the postmistress is given to the contents of the bag; and as the expectant receivers of letters crowd in at or around the door, a few who have been unable to approach sufficiently near derive what consolation they can from eyeing the operations through the shop window, or by vainly endeavouring to catch an early glimpse of some well-known superscription as the letters pass one by one through the hands of the postmistress.
The division of the letters, which can hardly be called a system of sorting, is a proceeding worthy of study. Some letters are placed up on end against sweetie-bottles in the window, others are laid down on shelves, others again are spread out on drawers or tables, quite in an arbitrary fashion. The postmistress has no difficulty in reading the addresses, as a rule, but the name of a new-comer seems to demand a little study: the letter is looked at back and front, and then laid down hesitatingly in a place by itself, as if it were an uncanny thing. The address of a letter for any young lady supposed to be engaged in correspondence of a tender kind seems also to require scrutiny; and should she happen to be well in at the door, it is immediately handed to her, those who are in the secret and those who are not forming different ideas as to the reason for this special mark of favour. While this is being done, an undefined sensation is produced in the small crowd, and the recipient retires in confusion to peruse the letter in peace and quiet elsewhere. At length the whole treasures are ready, and the distribution to the eager callers is a matter of a very few minutes, to be renewed again at the same hour next day.
Something like this is the routine observed when the delivery is being effected at small rural Post-offices in our own days—the keeper of the post being a shopkeeper, generally a grocer.
In the earlier history of the post, and up till the time of mail-coaches, the Post-office was very generally to be found established at the inn of the place. There was an evident convenience in this, owing to the innkeeper being the postmaster in the other and original sense of the provider of horses to ride post, when it was common to send on expresses, by means of these agents, from stage to stage. But the innkeepers, being often farmers besides, hadbusiness more important than that of the post to look after, and consequently the work was delegated to others. The duty of receiving and despatching the mails was frequently left to waiters or chambermaids, with the undesirable but inevitable result that the work was badly done. Often there was no separate place set apart for Post-office business; letters were sorted in the bar or in one of the public rooms, where any one could see them, thereby excluding all possibility of secrecy in dealing with the correspondence. Referring to the middle of last century, a surveyor expressed himself to the effect that "the head ostler was often the postmaster's prime minister in matters relating to the mails."
Interior of an Old Post-office.
Interior of an Old Post-office.
The interest taken by Boniface in the Post-office does not seem to have been very great; for an English surveyor, writing in 1792, thus expresses himself: "Persons who keep horses for other uses, and particularly innkeepers, may assuredly more conveniently and at less expense work themails than those who keep horses for that business only. But, on the other hand, it may be observed that innkeepers, so far from paying Government service the compliment of employing in it their best horses, too often send their worst with the mails; and as to their riders, they are, in general, the dregs of the stable-yard, and by no means to be compared to those employed by postmasters in private stations."
Lack of interest in the mails did not, however, stand in the way of their turning the post to account in favour of their visitors; for in another official report the following observation is made on the subject of franking: "The Post-office is not of the consequence or recommendation to an inn which it used to be before the restriction in franking took place; and a traveller, now finding that my host at the public office is deprived of that privilege, moves over to the Red Lyon."
When mail-coaches came to be put upon the road, the necessity for having postmasters other than innkeepers forced itself upon the authorities, so that there should be an independent check upon the contractors, and a better regulation of the arrival and departure of the mails, with less chance of excuse for delays; and thus a change was brought about in the status of country postmasters.
But postmasters in the old days do not seem to have been uniformly happy in their posts. The following from a surveyor's report of December 1792, relating to the postmaster of Wetherby, in Yorkshire, shows this, and no doubt describes the case accurately. The Wetherby office had been made more important by some rearrangement of posts, with the result which the surveyor thus pathetically brings under notice: "The Postmaster-General's humanity, I humbly apprehend, would be very much affected if they knew exactly the situation of this poor deputy. He has now experienced the difference between his former snugduty and the very great fatigue of a large centre office, and labour throughout almost the whole of every night since the 10th October 1791. Also the very heavy expenses incurred thereby for assistance, coal, candles, paper, wax, &c., without any addition to his salary. To add to his distresses—for he is not rich" (who ever heard of a rich postmaster?)—"he has been so closely pressed from the Bye-letter Office for his balance due there as to have been compelled to borrow money to discharge them, at the very time that he could not obtain any account from the General Office, nor warrants for payment of as large sums due to him."
It is not difficult to picture this poor postmaster of Wetherby, tied to duty all night long arranging his mails by the light of a guttering candle, and smarting under financial difficulties; the Head Office squeezing him for revenue with one hand, and holding back what was due to him for his services with the other.
Sometimes country Post-offices would be the scene of small gatherings late at night, waiting the arrival of the mail, as was the case at Dumfries in 1799, when some few of the inhabitants would wait up till ten, eleven, or twelve o'clock to receive the English newspapers, so eager were they to peruse them.
Similar anxiety to be first in possession of commercial or political news conveyed through the newspapers was no doubt common to all business centres at the period referred to; though in our own age such information is largely anticipated and discounted by the telegraph, and in this respect the circumstances have changed. Senex, in 'Glasgow Past and Present,' humorously describes the scene enacted at the Tontine Coffee Rooms, in Glasgow, during the French War, at the close of last century, on the arrival of the mail. He says:—"Immediately on receiving the bag of papers from the Post-office, the waiter locked himself up inthe bar, and after he had sorted the different papers and had made them up in a heap, he unlocked the door, and making a sudden rush into the middle of the room, he tossed up the whole lot of newspapers as high as the ceiling. Now came the grand rush and scramble of the subscribers, every one darting forward to lay hold of a falling newspaper. Sometimes a lucky fellow got hold of five or six newspapers, and ran off with them to a corner, in order to select his favourite paper; but he was always hotly pursued by some half-dozen of the disappointed scramblers, who, without ceremony, pulled from his hands the first paper they could lay hold of, regardless of its being torn in the contest. On these occasions I have often seen a heap of gentlemen sprawling on the floor of the room, and riding upon one another's backs like a parcel of boys. It happened, however, unfortunately, that a gentleman in one of these scrambles got two of his teeth knocked out of his head, and this ultimately brought about a change in the manner of delivering the newspapers."
Again, when a mail was passing through a town between stages in the middle of the night, the postmaster, awoke by the postboy's horn, would present himself at an upper window and take in his bag by means of a hook and line, his body shivering the while in the cold night blast.
An instance of such a proceeding is given by Williams in his history of Watford, where the destinies of the post were, at the time, presided over by a postmistress. "In response," says he, "to the thundering knock of the conductor, the old lady left her couch, and thrusting her head, covered with a wide bordered night-cap, out of the bedroom window, let down the mail bag by a string, and quickly returned to her bed again." Coming thus nightly to the open window in her night dress could not have been without its risks to a delicate creature like the postmistress.
These postmasters required looking after occasionally, however, for they sometimes did wrong. In 1668 the postmaster of Edinburgh got into trouble by levying charges of 1d., 2d., or 3d. upon letters over and above the proper rates, and he was peremptorily ordered to discontinue the practice.
The Postmistress of Watford despatching the Mail.
The Postmistress of Watford despatching the Mail.
They also, it would appear, exercised some sort of surveillance over private correspondence. Chambers, in his 'Domestic Annals of Scotland,' to which valuable work we are again indebted, gives a case in point: "In July 1701, two letters from Brussels,having the cross upon the back of them, had come with proper addresses under cover to the Edinburgh postmaster. Hewas surprised with them, and brought them to the Lord Advocate, who, however, on opening them, found they were of no value, being only on private business; wherefore he ordered them to be delivered by the postmaster to the persons to whom they were directed." Yet zeal for the King's interest didnot always have an acceptable reward, as is shown by the Scotch Privy Council Record of 1679. The keeper of the Edinburgh letter-office was accused of "sending up abye-letterwith the flying packet upon the twenty-two day of June last, giving ane account to the postmaster of England of the defeat of the rebels in the west, which was by the said postmaster communicated to the King before it could have been done by his Majesty's Secretary for Scotland, and which letter contains several untruths in matter of fact." For having forestalled his Majesty's Secretary, probably, rather than for the inaccuracy as to facts, the keeper of the post was sent to the Tolbooth, there to meditate upon the unprofitableness of official zeal, during the Council's pleasure.
It does not seem to have been thought prudent to intrust the date-stamping of letters to postmasters generally until some time in the present century. Down to the close of last century, at any rate, according to a Survey report of the year 1800, this was allowed only at the more important offices. The report is as follows:—"In regard to having the Dumbarton letters stamped with the day of the month, as now done at Glasgow, the subject has often been considered, and although it has been approved of with some large commercial towns in England, and Edinburgh and Glasgow in Scotland, it has been much doubted how far it would be proper or necessary to establish it generally with less towns, where the practice might be more subject to irregularity or abuses, besides the very great expense such a supply of stamps would occasion to the revenue."
The smallness of the salaries allowed to the postmasters of former times is referred to in another chapter, and this may, no doubt, have contributed to the lack of interest taken in the work by some of these officials.
But while their pay was small, a good deal of form andcircumstance attended their appointment, as will be seen from the following reproduction, on a reduced scale, of the formal appointment of the postmaster of East Grinstead in 1786. From a Post-office point of view the form is interesting, as no such documents are now in use.
Facsimile