"What's that? Is the house coming down?" cried Mr. Borlase, the surgeon-apothecary of Penzance, jumping out of his cozy arm-chair, as a tremendous explosion shook the house from top to bottom, making a great jingle among the gallipots in the shop below, and rousing him from a comfortable nap.
"Please, sir," said Betty, the housemaid, putting her head into the room, "here's that boy Davy been a-blowing of hisself up agen. Drat him, he's always up to some trick or other! He'll be the death of all of us some day, that boy will, as sure as my name's Betty."
"Bring him here directly," replied her master, knitting his brow, and screwing his mild countenance into an elaborate imitation of that of a judge he once saw at the assizes, with the black cap on, sentencing some poor wretch to be hanged. "Really, this sort of thing won't do at all."
Only, it must be owned, Mr. Borlase had said that many times before, and put on the terrible judicial look too, and yet "that boy Davy" was at his tricks again as much as ever.
"I'll bring as much as I can find of him, sir," said Betty, gathering up her apron, as if she fully expected to discover the object of her search in a fragmentary condition.
Presently there was heard a shuffling in the passage, and a somewhat ungainly youth, about sixteen years of age, was thrust into the room, with the due complement of legs, arms, and other members, and only somewhat the grimier about the face for the explosion. His fingers were all yellow with acids, and his clothes plentifully variegated with stains from the same compounds. At first sight he looked rather a dull, loutish boy, but his sharp, clear eyes somewhat redeemed his expression on a second glance.
"Here he is, sir," cried Betty triumphantly, as though she really had found him in pieces, and took credit for having put him cleverly together again.
"Well, Humphrey," said Mr. Borlase, "what have you been up to now? You'll never rest, I'm afraid, till you have the house on fire."
"Oh! if you please, sir, I was only experimenting in the garret, and there's no harm done."
"No harm done!" echoed Betty; "and if there isn't it's no fault of yours, you nasty monkey. I declare that blow up gave me such a turn you could ha' knocked me down with a feather, and there's a smell all over the house enough to pison any one."
"That'll do, Betty," said her master, finding the grim judicial countenance rather difficult to keep up,and anxious to pronounce sentence before it quite wore off. "I'll tell you what it is, young Davy, this sort of thing won't do at all. I must speak to Mr. Tonkine about you; and if I catch you at it again, you'll have to take yourself and your experiments somewhere else. So I warn you. You had much better attend to your work. It was only the other day you gave old Goody Jones a paperful of cayenne instead of cinnamon; and there's Joe Grimsly, the beadle, been here half a dozen times this day for those pills I told you to make up, and they're not ready yet. So just you take yourself off, mind your business, and don't let me have any more nonsense, or it'll be the worse for you."
And so the culprit gladly backed out of the room, not a whit abashed by the reprimand, for it was no novelty, to begin his experiments again and again, and one day, by way of compensation for keeping his master's household in constant terror of being blown up, to make his name familiar as a household word, by the invention of a little instrument that would save thousands and thousands from the fearful consequences of coal-pit explosions.
The Mr. Tonkine that his master referred to was the self-constituted protector of the Davy family. Old Davy had been a carver in the town, and dying, left his widow in very distressed circumstances, when this generous friend came forward and took upon himself the charge of the widow and her children.Young Humphrey, on leaving school, had been placed with Mr. Borlase to be brought up as an apothecary; but he was much fonder of rambling about the country, or experimenting in the garret which he had constituted his laboratory, than compounding drugs behind his master's counter. As a boy he was not particularly smart, although he was distinguished for the facility with which he gleaned the substance of any book that happened to take his fancy, and for an early predilection for poetry. As he grew up, the ardent, inquisitive turn of his mind displayed itself more strongly. He was very fond of spending what leisure time he had in strolling along the rocky coast searching for sea-drift and minerals, or reading some favourite book.
"There along the beach he wandered, nourishing a youth sublime,With the fairy-tales of science, and the long result of time."
"There along the beach he wandered, nourishing a youth sublime,With the fairy-tales of science, and the long result of time."
In after life he used often to tell how when tired he would sit down on the crags and exercise his fancy in anticipations of future renown, for already the ambition of distinguishing himself in his favourite science had seized him. "I have neither riches, nor power, nor birth," he wrote in his memorandum-book, "to recommend me; yet if I live, I trust I shall not be of less service to mankind and my friends than if I had been born with all these advantages." He read a great deal, and though without much method, managed, in a wonderfully short time, to master the rudiments of natural philosophyand chemistry, to say nothing of considerable acquaintance with botany, anatomy, and geometry; so that though the pestle and mortar might have a quieter time of it than suited his master's notions, Humphrey was busy enough in other ways.
HUMPHREY'S EXPERIMENTS ON THE DIFFUSION OF HEAT.Page 267.
In his walk along the beach, the nature of the air contained in the bladders of sea-weed was a constant subject of speculation with him; and he used to sigh over the limited laboratory at his command, which prevented him from thoroughly investigating the matter. But one day, as good luck would have it, the waves threw up a case of surgical instruments from some wrecked vessel, somewhat rusty and sand clogged, but in Davy's ingenious hands capable of being turned to good account. Out of an old syringe, which was contained in the case, he managed to construct a very tolerable air pump; and with an old shade lamp, and a couple of small metal tubes, he set himself to work to discover the causes of the diffusion of heat. At first sight the want of proper instruments for carrying on his researches might appear rather a hindrance to his progress in the paths of scientific discovery; but, in truth, his subsequent success as an experimentalist has been very properly attributed, in no small degree, to that necessity which is the parent of invention, and which forced him to exercise his skill and ingenuity in making the most of the scanty materials at his command. "Had he,"says one of his biographers, "in the commencement of his career been furnished with all those appliances which he enjoyed at a later period, it is more than probable that he might never have acquired that wonderful tact of manipulation, that ability of suggesting expedients, and of contriving apparatus, so as to meet and surmount the difficulties which must constantly arise during the progress of the philosopher through the unbeaten track and unexplored regions of science!"
While Davy was thus busily engaged qualifying himself for the distinguished career that awaited him, Gregory Watt, the son of the celebrated James Watt, being in delicate health, came to Penzance for change of air, and lodged with Mrs. Davy. At first he and Humphrey did not get on very well together, for the latter had just been reading some metaphysical works, and was very fond of indulging in crude and flippant speculations on such subjects, which rather displeased the shy invalid. But one day some chance remark of Davy's gave token of his extensive knowledge of natural history and chemistry, and thenceforth a close intimacy sprang up between them, greatly to the lad's advantage, for Watt's scientific knowledge set him in a more systematic groove of study, and encouraged him to concentrate his energies on his favourite pursuit.
Another useful friend Davy also found in Mr. Gilbert, afterwards President of the Royal Society.Passing along one day, Mr. Gilbert observed a youth making strange contortions of face as he hung over the hutch gate of Borlase's house; and being told by a companion that he was "the son of Davy the carver," and very fond of making chemical experiments, he had a talk with the lad, and discovering his talents, was ever afterwards his staunch friend and patron.
Through his two friends, Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Watt, Davy formed the acquaintance of Dr. Beddoes, who was just setting up at Bristol, under the title of Pneumatic Institution, an establishment for investigating the medical properties of different gases; and who, appreciating his abilities, gave him the superintendence of the new institution.
Although only twenty years of age at this time, Davy was well abreast of the science of the day, and soon applied his vigorous and searching intellect to several successful investigations. His first scientific discovery was the detection of siliceous earth in the outer coating of reeds and grasses. A child was rubbing two pieces of bonnet cane together, and he noticed that a faint light was emitted; and on striking them sharply together, vivid sparks were produced just as if they had been flint and steel. The fact that when the outer skin was peeled off this property was destroyed, showed that it was confined to the skin, and on subjecting it to analysis silex was obtained, and still more in reeds and grasses.
As superintendent of Dr. Beddoe's institution, his attention was, of course, chiefly directed to the subject of gases, and with the enthusiasm of youth, he applied himself ardently to the investigation of their elements and effects, attempting several very dangerous experiments in breathing gases, and more than once nearly sacrificing his life. In the course of these experiments he found out the peculiar properties of nitrous oxide, or, as it has since been popularly called, "laughing gas," which impels any one who inhales it to go through some characteristic action,—a droll fellow to laugh, a dismal one to weep and sigh, a pugnacious man to fight and wrestle, or a musical one to sing.
At twenty-two years of age, such was the reputation he had acquired, that he got the appointment of lecturer at the Royal Institution, which was just then established, and found himself in a little while not only a man of mark in the scientific, but a "lion" in the fashionable world. Natural philosophy and chemistry had begun to attract a good deal of attention at that time; and Davy's enthusiasm, his clear and vivid explanations of the mysteries of science, and the poetry and imagination with which he invested the dry bones of scientific facts, caught the popular taste exactly. His lecture-room became a fashionable lounge, and was crowded with all sorts of distinguished people. The young lecturer became quite the rage, and was petted and feted as the lionof the day. It was only six years back that he was the druggist's boy in a little country town, alarming and annoying the household with his indefatigable experiments. He could hardly have imagined, as one of his day-dreams at the sea-side, that his fame would be acquired so quickly.
In spite of all the flatteries and attentions which were showered upon him, Davy stuck manfully to his profession; and if his reputation was somewhat artificial and exaggerated at the commencement, he amply earned and consolidated it by his valuable contributions to science during the rest of his career.
The name of Humphrey Davy will always be best known from its association with the ingenious safety lamp which he invented, and which well entitles him to rank as one of the benefactors of mankind. It was in the year 1815 that Davy first turned his attention to this subject. Of frequent occurrence from the very first commencement of coal-mining, the number of accidents from fire-damp had been sadly multiplied by the increase of mining operations consequent on the introduction of the steam engine. The dreadful character of some of the explosions which occurred about this time, the appalling number of lives lost, and the wide-spread desolation in some of the colliery districts which they had occasioned, weighed heavily on the minds of all connected with such matters. Not merely were the feelings ofhumanity wounded by the terrible and constant danger to which the intrepid miners were exposed, but it began to be gravely questioned whether the high rate of wage which the collier required to pay him not only for his labour, but for the risk he ran, would admit of the mines being profitably worked. It was felt that some strenuous effort must be made to preserve the miners from their awful foe. Davy was then in the plenitude of his reputation, and a committee of coal-owners besought him to investigate the subject, and if possible provide some preventative against explosions. Davy at once went to the north of England, visited a number of the principal pits, obtained specimens of fire-damp, analyzed them carefully, and having discovered the peculiarities of this element of destruction, after numerous experiments devised the safety-lamp as its antagonist.
The principles upon which this contrivance rests, are the modification of the explosive tendencies of fire-damp (the inflammable gas in mines) when mixed with carbonic acid and nitrogen; and the obstacle presented to the passage of an explosion, if it should occur, through a hole less than the seventh of an inch in diameter; and accordingly, while the small oil lamp in burning itself mixes the surrounding gas with carbonic acid and nitrogen, the cylinder of wire-gauze which surrounds it prevents the escape of any explosion. It is curious that George Stephenson, thecelebrated engineer, about the same time, hit on much the same expedient.
To control a "power that in its tremendous effects seems to emulate the lightning and the earthquake," and to enclose it in a net of the most slender texture, was indeed a grand achievement; and when we consider the many thousand lives which it has been the means of saving from a sudden and cruel death, it must be acknowledged to be one of the noblest triumphs, not only of science, but of humanity, which the world has ever seen. Honours were showered upon Davy, from the miners and coal-owners, from scientific associations, from crowned heads; but all must agree with Playfair in thinking that "it is little that the highest praise, and that even the voice of national gratitude when most strongly expressed, can add to the happiness of one who is conscious of having done such a service to his fellow-men." Davy himself said he "valued it more than anything he ever did." When urged by his friends to take out a patent for the invention, he replied,—"No, I never thought of such a thing. My sole object was to serve the cause of humanity, and if I have succeeded, I am amply rewarded by the gratifying reflection of having done so."
The honours of knighthood and baronetage were successively conferred on Davy as a reward for his scientific labours; and the esteem of his professional brethren was shown in his election to the President-ship of the Royal Institution, in which, oddly enough, he was succeeded by his old friend Mr. Gilbert, who had first taken him by the hand, and whom he had got ahead of in the race of life.
Davy died at Geneva before he had completed his fifty-first year, no doubt from over-exertion and the unhealthy character of the researches he prosecuted so recklessly. Assiduous as he was in his devotion to his favourite science, he found time also to master several continental languages; to keep himself well acquainted with, and also to contribute to the literature of the day; and to indulge his passion for fly-fishing, at which he was a keen and practised adept.
Eminent as were the talents of Sir Humphrey Davy, and valuable as his discovery of the safety-lamp has proved, it is but fair to own that his credit to the latter has been very openly denied. Two persons of scientific celebrity have been put forward as the real inventors of the safety-lamp—namely, Dr. Reid Clanny of Newcastle, and the great railway-engineer, George Stephenson. Of Clanny's safety-lamp a description appeared in thePhilosophical Transactionsin 1813—that is, ten years before Sir Humphrey made his communication to the Royal Society. However, it was a complicated affair, which required the whole attention of a boy to work it, and was based on the principle of forcing in air through water by the agency of bellows.
Stephenson's was a very different apparatus. In its general principle it resembled Davy's, the chief difference being, that he inserted a glass cylinder inside the wire-gauze cylinder, and inside the top of the glass cylinder a perforated metallic chimney—the supply of air being kept up through a triple circle of small holes in the bottom.
Stephenson's claim has, of course, been disputed by the friends and admirers of Sir Humphrey Davy; but Mr. Smile has conclusively proved that his lamp, the "Geordy," was in use at the Killingworth collieries at the very time that Davy was conducting the experiments which led to his invention. It is not to be inferred, however, that Davy knew aught of what Stephenson had accomplished. It seems to be one of those rare cases in which two minds, working independently, and unknown each to the other, have both arrived simultaneously at the same result.
"He comes, the herald of a noisy world,News from all nations lumb'ring at his back,—Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks;Births, deaths, and marriages; epistles wetWith tears that trickled down the writer's cheeksFast as the periods of his fluent quill;Or charged with am'rous sighs of absent swains,Or nymphs responsive."Cowper.
"He comes, the herald of a noisy world,News from all nations lumb'ring at his back,—Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks;Births, deaths, and marriages; epistles wetWith tears that trickled down the writer's cheeksFast as the periods of his fluent quill;Or charged with am'rous sighs of absent swains,Or nymphs responsive."Cowper.
The growth of the postal system is a sure measure of the progress of industry, commerce, education, and all that goes to make up the sum of civilization; and there is no more striking illustration to be found of the strides which our country has made in that direction since the century began than the introduction of a cheap and rapid delivery of letters, and the craving which it has at once satisfied and augmented. Nothing gives us so forcible an idea of the difference between the Britain of the present day and the Britain of the Stuart or even of the Georgian period, than the contrast between the postal communication of these times and of our own. The itch of writing is now so strong in us, we are so constantly writing or receiving letters, our appetite for them is so ravenous, that we wonder how people got on in the days when the postman was the exclusive messenger of the king, and when even majesty was so badly served that, as one oldpostmaster[D]wrote in self-exculpation of some delay, "when placards are sent (to order the immediate forwarding of some state despatches) the constables many times be fayne to take the horses oute of plowes and cartes, wherein," he gravely adds, "can be no extreme diligence." It was a sure sign that the country was going ahead when Cromwell (1656) found it worth while to establish posts for the people at large, and was able to farm out the post office for £10,000 a year. The profits of that establishment were doubled by the time the Stuarts returned to the throne, and more than doubled again before the close of the seventeenth century. The country has kept on growing out of system after system, like a lad out of his clothes, and at different times has had new ones made to its measure. Brian Tuke's easy plan of borrowing farmers' horses on which to mount his emissaries, gave place to regular relays of post-boys and post-horses; and, in course of time, when the robbery of the mails by sturdy highwaymen had become almost the rule, and their safe conveyance the exception, post-boys were in turn supplanted by a system of stage-coaches, convoyed by an armed guard. This was thought a great advance; and so it was. A pushing, zealous man named Palmer originated the scheme. Amidst many other avocations, he found time to travel on the outside ofstage-coaches, for the sake of talking with the coachmen and observing the routes, here, there, and everywhere all over England, and thus matured all the details of his plan from personal experience. "None but an enthusiast," said Sheridan in a rapture of admiration in the House of Commons, "could have conceived, none but an enthusiast could have practically entertained, none but an enthusiast could have carried out such a system."
Still, in spite of the exactitude with which Palmer's scheme was declared to fit the wants of the country, it soon began to be grown out of like the rest. It became too short, too tight, too straitened every way, and impeded the circulation of correspondence,—no unimportant artery of our national system. The cost of postage was too high, the mode of delivery too slow, and the consequence was, that people either repressed their desire to write letters, or sent them through some cheaper and illegitimate channel. Sir Walter Scott knew a man who recollected the mail from London reaching Edinburgh with only a single letter. Of all the tens of thousands of the modern Babylon, only one solitary individual had got anything to say to anybody in the metropolis of the sister kingdom worth paying postage for. "We look back now," writes Miss Martineau, "with a sort of amazed compassion to the old crusading times, when warrior-husbands and their wives, grey-headed parents and their brave sons, parted with the knowledge that it must be months or years before they could hear of one another's existence. We wonder how they bore the depth of silence! And we feel the same now about the families of Polar voyagers. But, till a dozen years ago, it did not occur to many of us how like this was the fate of the largest class in our own country. The fact is, there was no full and free epistolary intercourse in the country, except between those who had the command of franks. There were few families in the wide middle class who did not feel the cost of postage a heavy item in their expenditure; and if the young people sent letters home only once a fortnight, the amount at the year's end was a rather serious matter. But it was the vast multitudes of the lower orders who suffered like the crusading families of old, and the geographical discoverers of all times. When once their families parted off from home it was a separation almost like that of death. The hundreds of thousands of apprentices, of shopmen, of governesses, of domestic servants, were cut off from family relations as if seas or deserts lay between them and home. If the shilling for each letter could be saved by the economy of weeks or months at first, the rarity of correspondence went on to increase the rarity; new interests hastened the dying out of old ones; and the ancient domestic affections were but too apt to wither away, till the wish for intercourse was gone. The young girl could not ease her heartby pouring out her cares and difficulties to her mother before she slept, as she can now, when the penny and the sheet of paper are the only condition of the correspondence. The young lad felt that a letter home was a serious and formal matter, when it must cost his parents more than any indulgence they ever thought of for themselves; and the old fun and light-heartedness were dropped off from such domestic intercourse as there was. The effect upon the morals of this kind of restraint is proved beyond a doubt by the evidence afforded in the army. It was a well-known fact, that in regiments where the commanding officer was kind and courteous about franking letters for the privates, and encouraged them to write as often as they pleased, the soldiers were more sober and manly, more virtuous and domestic in their affections, than where difficulty was made by the indolence or stiffness of the franking officer."
Under the costly postal system, the revenue of the post office did not, as it had hitherto done, and should have continued to do, keep pace with the progress of the country. The appetite for communication between distant friends or men of business was evidently either decaying, or finding vent in an unlawful way. The latter was chiefly the case. There were vast numbers of people separated from each other by long weary miles, too many to permit of visits, who could not resist writing to each other,—the doating parent to the child, the lover to hismistress, the merchant to his agents, the lawyer to his clients. Those who could not afford postage, were the very class who could not get franks; for the principle was, that those who could best afford postage money should have plenty of franks, which were, of course, quite out of the way of poor, humble folks,—the fat sow had his ear well greased, the lean, starving one had to consume his own fat, like the bear, or go without. The consequence was, that those who were eager to write and could not get letters through the post, found other means of forwarding them to the evasion of the law. There was no limit to the exercise of ingenuity in this direction. Three or four letters were written on one piece of paper, to be cut up and distributed separately by one of the recipients; newspapers were turned into letters by underscoring or pricking with a pin the letters required to form the various words of the communication; some peculiarity in the style of address on the outside was arranged between correspondents, the sight of which was enough to indicate a message, and the letter was then rejected, having served its purpose; and so on, in a hundred other ways, fraudulent means were found of evading the law. Some carriers had a large and profitable business in smuggling letters. In many populous districts the number of letters conveyed by carriers at a penny each in an illegal way far exceeded those sent through the post. In Manchester, for everyletter that went by the postman, six went by the carrier; and in Glasgow the proportion was as one to ten. All this was notorious. The most honourable people saw no great harm in cheating the post to send a word of comfort or encouragement to an absent friend,—it was a vice that leaned to virtue's side. But it was a bad thing for the country that people should be driven to such devices, in obeying a natural and proper impulse. The man who began by smuggling letters, might end by smuggling tobacco or brandy; and the system was morally pernicious. All felt the evil, but remedy seemed impossible. As the urgency for a change grew to a head, the man came to effect it,—a man "of open heart, who could enter into family impulses; a man of philosophical ingenuity, who could devise a remedial scheme; a man of business, who could fortify such a scheme with impregnable accuracy"—that man was Rowland Hill.
When quite a young man, on a pedestrian excursion through the lake district, Rowland Hill, passing a cottage door, observed the postman deliver a letter to a woman, and overheard her, after looking anxiously at the envelope, and then returning it, say she had no money to pay the postage. The man was about to put it back in his wallet and pass on, for it was an every-day thing for him to receive such a reply from the poor countryfolk, when Mr. Hill in his goodness of heart, out of compassion for the woman, stepped forward and paid the shilling, regardless of manyshakes of the head, and hints of remonstrance from her, which he interpreted as merely unwillingness to trespass on a stranger's bounty. As soon as the postman was out of sight she broke the seal, and showed him why she did not want him to pay for the letter. The sheet was a blank, and the envelope had served as a means of communication between her and her correspondent. It appeared that she had arranged with her brother, that as long as all went well with him he should send a blank sheet in that way once a quarter, and thus she had tidings of him without paying the postage.
As he pursued his walk, Mr. Hill could not help meditating on the incident, which had made a deep impression on his mind. He could not blame the poor woman and her brother for the trick they had played upon the post office in order to correspond with each other; and yet he felt there must be something wrong in a system which put it out of their reach, and of others similarly circumstanced, to do so in a lawful manner. Every country post-master had a budget of touching stories of poor folk who were tantalized with the sight of a letter from some dear one, full, perhaps, of kind words and cheering news, or asking sympathy and condolence in misfortune, or transmitting money to help them in their straits; as well as of countless little frauds of the sort described, which they could not always harden themselves to circumvent and punish, so piteouslyeager did the poor souls appear to be to get word of their friends. And yet, in spite of all sorts of frauds, to people in humble life letters came like "angels' visits, few and far between."
Mr. Hill asked himself whether there was no means of lessening the cost of postage, whether the government could not afford to charge a lower rate, or manage to get the work done more cheaply? Keeping his ears and eyes open, always on the alert to pick up a fact as regarded the present, or a hint for the future, examining the mode of carriage and delivery, the routes chosen, and the time occupied, Mr. Hill, after a while, arrived at the conviction, that the postage rates might not only be reduced, but that the transmission of letters might be more quickly performed by a remodelling of the system. He ascertained that the cost of mere transit incurred upon a letter sent from London to Edinburgh, a distance of 400 miles, was not more than a thirty-sixth part of a penny, and that, therefore, there was a margin, under the existing charge, of 11-35/36d. for extra expenses and profit. He observed that the twopenny posts of London and other large towns were found to answer very well, although people, being within easy distances of each other, did not need so much as in the country to correspond in writing, and that the carriers, in spite of the illegality of the traffic, had loads of letters to deliver at a penny each, and that penny paid them for their trouble, as well as their risk of detection.He therefore came to the conclusion, that what was wanted, and what it was quite possible to establish, was a uniform penny postage rate over the whole of the United Kingdom. He calculated that if that were adopted, the number of people then in the habit of writing letters would write a great many more than ever; that others, who had been precluded by the expense from corresponding, would come into the field; and that hundreds of letters forwarded illegally would now pass through the post, so that the number of letters sent by post would be increased fourfold, and the revenue, at first, perhaps a trifle curtailed, would soon mount up again.
The post-office authorities were greatly shocked and disgusted at so audacious and utopian a proposal. But the public were greatly delighted with it, only doubting whether it was not too good news to be true. First by means of an anonymous pamphlet, then by direct and personal application to the government, Mr. Hill endeavoured to get his plans taken into consideration—no easy matter, for circumlocution officials had passed from contemptuous indifference to active hostility, as they gradually discovered how formidable an antagonist in the truth and accuracy of his calculations, the sincerity and earnestness of his purpose, they had to deal with. It was a great national cause Mr. Hill was fighting, and he was not to be put down. The people took his side, Parliament granted an inquiry,and the result was a report in favour of his scheme. On the 17th of August 1839—why is not the anniversary kept with rejoicings?—penny postage became the law of the land.
During the last weeks of the year a uniform fourpenny rate was charged by way of accustoming people to the cheap system, and saving official feelings from the rude shock of a sudden descent from the respectable rate of a shilling, to the vulgar one of a penny. On the 10th January 1840 the penny system came into force. At first Mr. Hill availed himself of a suggestion thrown out some years before by Mr. Charles Knight, that the best way of collecting the penny postage on newspapers would be to have stamped covers; but subsequently stamped envelopes were done away with, and queen's heads introduced. The franking privilege, of course, died with the dear postage.
Upon the adoption of the scheme, Mr. Hill received an appointment in the post office in order to superintend its working; but he had an uneasy berth of it. His plan was adopted only in part,—the postage rate was lowered, while the other compensating and essential features were thrown aside; official jealousy of reform showed itself in various attempts to thwart his efforts, and to fulfil its prediction of failure to the scheme. The consequence was, that the immediate results were not so satisfactory as could have been wished. The increase inthe number of letters was certainly very great. During the last month of the old system the total number of letters passing through the post office was little more than two millions and a half, of which only a fifth were paid letters; while a twelvemonth after the introduction of the new system the total number of letters had risen to nearly six millions per month, of which the unpaid letters formed less than a twelfth part. Very heavy expenses, however, not connected with the new plan, had been incurred; and the consequence was, that the profits of the post office were only a fourth of what they had been. Advantage was taken of this to get Mr. Hill ousted from his post; but, after he had transferred his services for some years to the management of the London and Brighton Railway, the authorities were glad to receive him back again, to place the remodelling of the system in his hands, and to allow him to introduce the other parts of his scheme which had before been neglected. In this work Mr. Hill was busily engaged for a number of years, and most of his plans were gradually carried out with great advantage to the public. In 1846 a public testimonial of £13,360 was presented to Mr. Hill in acknowledgment of his distinguished services to the country; and at a later date he was made a Knight of the Bath.
Cheap postage has now been fairly tried, and must be pronounced a grand success. It has becomepart and parcel of our national life, and has been found precious as the gift of a new faculty. We should miss the loss of cheap and rapid correspondence with our friends and acquaintances almost as much as the loss of speech or the loss of sight. The postman has now to find his way to the humblest, poorest districts, where twenty years back his knock was never heard; and what was once a rare luxury, has now come to be considered a common necessary of life. Instead of only seventy-six millions of letters passing through the post in a year, as in 1838, the number has risen to between seven and eight hundred millions. On the average every individual in England receives twenty-eight letters a-year (in London the individual average is forty-six), in Scotland eighteen, and in Ireland nine.
The gross revenue derived from these sources is over four millions; and some of the railway companies each make more money out of the conveyance of the mails in a year, than the annual revenue of the whole kingdom in the days of William and Mary.
The moral and social effects of the cheap postage are incalculable. It has tended to strengthen and perpetuate domestic ties, to bring the most scattered and distant members of a family under the benign influences of home, and to foster feelings of friendship and sympathy between man and man. Upon the education and intelligence of the people, too, ithas had, concurrently with other causes, a marked effect. Many who looked upon the art of writing as only a temptation to forgery, were induced to take pen in hand and master the science of pot-hooks and hangers, for the sake of corresponding with their friends, and of being able to read the letters they received. In 1839 a third of the men and half of the women who were married, according to the registrar's returns, could not sign their own names; in 1857 that was the case with only a seventh of the men, and a fifth of the women; and not a little of this advanced education may be attributed to the impulse given by the introduction of cheap postage.
Nor have the advantages derived from the post office by the great body of the public ended here. It has shown itself the most progressive department of the government, and has undertaken many benevolent branches of work which were never contemplated by Sir Rowland Hill. Thus it carries on an extensive savings-bank system, worked out by Mr. Frank Ives Scudamore, adopted by Mr. Gladstone when Chancellor of the Exchequer, and established by Act of Parliament in 1861. This valuable department, whose operations are now of a very extensive character, keeps a separate account for every depositor, acknowledges the receipt, and, on the requisite notice being furnished, sends out warrants authorizing post-masters to pay such sums as depositors may wish to withdraw. The deposits arehanded over to the Commissioners for the reduction of the National Debt, and repaid to the depositors through the post office. The rate of interest payable to depositors is two and a half per cent. Each depositor has his savings-bank book, which is sent to him yearly for examination, and the increasing interest calculated and allowed.
The post office now acts, too, as a life-insurance society, offering advantages to the operative which no other society can offer, and which the public are beginning to appreciate.
In 1869 the entire telegraphic system of the United Kingdom passed into the hands of the post office, whose administrators have shown themselves anxious to offer increased facilities to the public for the transaction of business. The number of telegraphic stations has been greatly increased, and the rate reduced at which messages are flashed from one part of the island to the other.
Finally, a recent innovation, made entirely in the interest of the public weal, is the introduction ofHalfpenny Post Cards. On one side of these missives the sender writes the name and address of his correspondent; on the other, the communication intended for him. The card already bears a halfpenny stamp impressed, and nothing more remains to be done but to deposit it in the nearest office or pillar-post. We think, then, it may fairly be said that the post office has shown itself anxious to "keepabreast" with the ever-increasing wants of the commercial classes of Great Britain.
While these pages are passing through the press, the following particulars, apparently issued under official direction, have attracted our attention. We append them here, as they cannot fail to interest the reader:—"It appears that there are in the United Kingdom 6 miles 712 yards ofpneumatic tubesin connection with the postal telegraphic system (1871). Of these, 4 miles 638 yards exist in London, and 2 miles 74 yards in the provinces—the latter being confined to Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, and Glasgow. Of the total length of tubes now existing, only 2 miles 1324 yards existed prior to the transfer of the telegraphs to the post office; so that no less than 3 miles 1148 yards have been laid since that date; or, in other words, the system has been considerably more than doubled in less than a year. The total length of new tubes ordered and in progress exceeds 3 miles, and when these are completed, the system will be nearly 10 miles in length. All of the tubes in the provinces, and all but two of those in London, are worked on Clark's system. The two which form an exception are those between Telegraph Street and St. Martin's-le-Grand, which are worked on Siemens' system. The former are made of lead, with a diameter varying from 1-1/4 to 2-1/4 inches—the more frequent sizebeing 1-1/2 inches. The latter are made of iron, and have a diameter of 3 inches. The idea of iron tubes worked on Siemens' principle is derived, we believe, from Berlin, where the system is entirely of this description; and of the new tubes in progress, that from St. Martin's-le-Grand to Temple Bar will be of this kind. All of the tubes now in existence are worked in both directions by means of alternate pressure and vacuum; the motive power, in the shape of a steam-engine, being stationed at the central office, with which the out-stations have communication by this means. It is interesting to note the difference of time occupied by the different tubes in London in passing the "carriers" through from one end to the other—the speed being governed by the length and diameter of the tube, and by the circumstance whether it is carried in a straight line, or has to encounter sharp curves and bends on its way. The great advantage of this means of communication, for short distance, over the electric is, that the tubes are not liable to sudden blocks of work as the wires are, and that a dozen or more messages may be sent through, at one blow, if desired. For local telegraphs in great towns the pneumatic system is invaluable, and is certain to be greatly extended under the postal administration.
FOOTNOTES:[D]Brian Tuke, master of the post to King Henry VIII.
[D]Brian Tuke, master of the post to King Henry VIII.
Worthy to stand on a par with, or at lowest, in the very next rank to, the men who originate great inventions, are those whose foresight and energy discover the means of extending their utility; and in shortening the journey between Europe and India, by the establishment of the overland route, Lieutenant Waghorn practically achieved as great a triumph over time and space, as if he had invented a machine for the purpose that would have traversed the old route in the same time.
It was in 1827 that Thomas Waghorn first promulgated the idea of steam communication between our Eastern possessions and the mother country. He was then twenty-seven years of age, and had just returned to Calcutta from rough and arduous service in the Arracan war. When a midshipman of barely seventeen, he had passed the "navigation" examination for lieutenant,—the youngest, it appears, who ever did so; but although, consequently, eligible for that rank, he had never reached it up to this time, in spite of the distinction he had acquired in various actions. His health had been so much shattered by a fever caught in Arracan, that he had to return to England; but he did not leave Calcutta withoutcommunicating his design to the government there, and obtaining a letter of credence from Lord Combermere (then vice-president in council) to the East India Company, recommending him, in consequence of his meritorious conduct in the recent war, "as a fit and proper person to open steam navigation with India,viathe Cape of Good Hope."
The idea, however, was just then in advance of the time, and all Waghorn's agitation in its favour proved of no avail. In the meantime, the idea of saving the time spent in "doubling the Cape," by means of a route through the Mediterranean, across the Isthmus of Suez, and down the Red Sea, had occurred to him; and in 1829 he procured a commission from the East India Directory to report on the probability of Red Sea navigation, and at the same time to convey certain despatches to Sir John Malcolm, Governor of Bombay.
He got notice of this mission on the 24th October, and was desired to be at Suez by the 8th December, in order to catch the steamerEnterprise, and proceed in her to India. He took only four days to make ready for the journey, and on the 28th left London on the top of theEaglestage-coach from Gracechurch Street. Circumstances were anything but propitious all through this expedition of his; and yet he defied and disregarded them all. Bridges broke down at central points, falling avalanches had to be kept clear of, an accident disabled the steamer, andhe had to go some hundred and thirty miles out of his way in consequence. In spite of all that, he dashed through five kingdoms, and reached Trieste in nine days, or little more than half the time occupied by the post-office mails on the same journey. Impatient of delay, he learned that an Austrian brig had left for Alexandria the night before, but the breeze had fallen, and she was still to be caught a glimpse of from the hill-tops. A fresh posting carriage was got out, and off he went in chase of the vessel, hoping to make up to her at Pesano, twenty miles down the Gulf of Venice. The calm still prevailed; and as he went dashing along he could catch sight, now and then, as the carriage passed some open part of the road and disclosed the sea, of the brig creeping lazily along. Every hour he gained on her; instead of a dull, black speck upon the horizon, he began to make out her hull, her sails, and rigging. He urged the post-boys with redoubled vehemence—kept them going at a furious pace. He was within three miles of the vessel—it was crawling, he was flying—another half hour would see him safe on board, and then heigh for India. But stay, surely that was the wind among the trees; could the breeze have risen? It had indeed. A strong northerly wind sprang up; gradually the sails of the brig swelled out before it, and poor Waghorn, with his panting, jaded horses, was left far behind. The chase was hopeless now—so he went back mournfully to Trieste—"exhaustedin body with fatigue, and racked by disappointment after the previous excitement."
The next ship, a Spanish one, was not to sail for three days. That was more than Waghorn could endure; he went to the captain, urged him, bribed him with fifty dollars to make it two days, instead of three, and succeeded. In eight and forty hours he was somewhat consoled for his former discouragement, to find himself at length at sea. In sixteen days he was at Alexandria, and after a rest of only five hours there, hired donkeys and was off to Rosetta. The donkeys were in the conspiracy against him, as well as the wind and the avalanches. The first day they trotted and walked along as brisk as may be, and our indefatigable traveller worked them well. It is well known that the donkey of the east is a paragon of wisdom, compared with his dunce of a brother in Europe; and upon a night's reflection, Mr. Waghorn's donkeys seem to have clearly perceived that he had no notion of easy stages, and was bent on keeping them going as fast as he could, and as long as daylight suffered. So the second day they managed to stumble, and limp, and fall down intentionally four or five times, and to put on a pitiful affectation of fatigue and weariness,—a common dodge, the drivers said, of those knowing animals.
Fortunately he was soon able to dispense with the deceitful donkeys; and embarking on the Nile, undertook to navigate the boat himself, in order to take soundings and make observations in regard to the route. After brief repose at Rosetta, he set out for Cairo on acangé, a sort of boat of fifteen tons burthen, with two large latteen sails. The captain undertook to land him at Cairo in three days and four nights; but the boat went aground on a shoal, and after tacking for five days and nights, Waghorn lost all patience, and proceeded to his destination upon donkeys. He crossed the desert from Cairo to Suez in four days, on two of which he travelled seventy-four miles. He was thus able to keep his appointment and be at Suez by the 8th December, but there was no sign of the steamer. The wind was blowing right in her teeth; so after waiting two days, with feverish impatience, Mr. Waghorn determined to sail down the centre of the Red Sea, in an open boat, in the hope of meeting the steamer somewhere above Cossier. All the seamen of the locality held up their hands at the proposal of the mad Englishman, and tried to dissuade him. It was the opinion, he knew, of nautical authorities at the time, that the Red Sea was not navigable. But he could not rest quiet at Suez; he had important despatches to deliver; he was commissioned to inquire into the navigability of these waters; and out he would go in an open boat, let folk say what they would, and so he did.
"He embarked," says the narrator of his "Lifeand Labours," inHousehold Words,[E]"in an open boat, and without having any personal knowledge of the navigation of this sea, without chart, without compass, or even the encouragement of a single precedent for such an enterprise—his only guide the sun by day, and the north star by night—he sailed down the centre of the Red Sea. Of this most interesting and unprecedented voyage Mr. Waghorn gives no detailed account. All intermediate things are abruptly cut off with these very characteristic words: 'Suffice itto say,I arrivedat Juddah, 620 miles in six and a half days, in that boat!' You get nothing more than the sum total. He kept a sailor's log-journal; but it is only meant for sailors to read, though now and then you obtain a glimpse of the sort of work he went through. Thus: 'Sunday, 13th—Strong, N.W. wind, half a gale, but scudding under storm-sail. Sunset, anchored for the night. Jaffateen Islands out of sight to the N. Lost two anchors during the night,' &c. The rest is equally nautical and technical. In one of the many scattered papers collected since the death of Mr. Waghorn, we find a very slight passing allusion to toils, perils, and privations, which, however, he calmly says, were 'inseparable from such a voyage under such circumstances,'—but not one touch of description from first to last. A more extraordinaryinstance of great practical experience and knowledge, resolutely and fully carrying out a project which must of necessity have appeared little short of madness to almost everybody else, was never recorded. He was perfectly successful, so far as the navigation was concerned, and in the course he adopted, notwithstanding that his crew of six Arabs mutinied. It appears (for he tells us only the bare fact) they were only subdued on the principle known to philosophers in theory, and to high-couraged men, accustomed to command, by experience,—namely, that the one man who is braver, stronger, and firmer than any individual of ten or twenty men, is more than a match for the ten or twenty put together. He touched at Cossier on the 14th, not having fallen in with theEnterprise. There he was told by the governor that the steamer was expected every hour. Mr. Waghorn was in no state of mind to wait very long; so, finding she did not arrive, he again put to sea in his open boat, resolved, if he did not fall in with her, to proceed the entire distance to Juddah—a distance of 400 miles further. Of this further voyage he does not leave any record, even in his log, beyond the simple declaration that he 'embarked for Juddah—ran the distance in three days and twenty-one hours and a quarter—and on the 23d anchored his boat close to one of the East India Company's cruisers, theBenares.' But now comes the most trying part of his whole undertaking—the part which a man of his vigorously constituted impulses was least able to bear as the climax of his prolonged and arduous efforts, privations, anxieties, and fatigue. Repairing on board theBenaresto learn the news, the captain informed him that, in consequence of being found in a defective state on her arrival at Bombay, 'theEnterprisewas not coming at all.' This intelligence seems to have felled him like a blow, and he was immediately seized with a delirious fever. The captain and officers of theBenaresfelt great sympathy and interest in this sad result of so many extraordinary efforts, and detaining him on board, bestowed every attention on his malady."
It was six weeks before he could proceed by sailing vessel to Bombay, where he arrived on the 21st March, having, in spite of all the drawbacks in his way, accomplished the journey in four months and twenty-one days—quite an extraordinary rapidity at that time. Had he escaped the fever at Juddah, and fallen in with theEnterpriseat the right time, nearly two months might have been saved.
He had proved the practicability of the overland route, and he now devoted himself to its establishment. In an address to the Home Government and the East India Company, he thus expresses his views:—
"Of myself, I trust I may be excused when I say, that the highest object of my ambition has everbeen an extensive usefulness; and my line of life—my turn of mind—my disposition, long ago impelled me to give all my leisure, and all my opportunities of observation, to the introduction of steam-vessels, and permanently establishing them as the means of communication between India and England including all the colonies on the route. The vast importance of three months' earlier information to his Majesty's government, and to the Honourable Company,—whether relative to a war or a peace—to abundant or to short crops—to the sickness or convalescence of a colony or district, and oftentimes even of an individual; the advantages to the merchant, by enabling him to regulate his supplies and orders according to circumstances and demands; the anxieties of the thousands of my countrymen in India for accounts, and further accounts, of their parents, children, and friends at home; the corresponding anxieties of those relatives and friends in this country;—in a word, the speediest possible transit of letters to the tens of thousands who at all times in solicitude await them, was, to my mind, a service of the greatest general importance; and it shall not be my fault if I do not, and for ever establish it."
The scheme which he thus resolutely and enthusiastically declared his adoption of, he lived to carry out, but at the cost of years of weary advocacy, agitation for help, desperate attempts on his own account, or in conjunction with a few enterprisingassociates, in the teeth of constant discouragement, official indifference, jealousy, and disguised hostility. The East India Company told him there was no need of steam navigation to the East at all, ordered him to mind his own business and return to field service, circulated reports of his insanity through their agents in Egypt when Waghorn went there to enlist the Pasha in his cause. The overland route, however, was no theory, but an undoubted fact. Waghorn never for a moment relaxed his grasp of it, or doubted its value; and in the end, after unheard of difficulties, disappointments, and opposition, into the long, painful story of which we need not enter, succeeded in establishing the overland route. When he left Egypt in 1841, he had provided English carriages, vans, and horses, for the conveyance of passengers across the desert, placed small steamers on the Nile and Alexandrian Canal, and built the eight halting-places on the desert between Cairo and Suez. He also set up the three hotels in the same quarter "in which every comfort, and even some luxuries, were provided and stored for the passing traveller,—among which should be mentioned iron tanks with good water, ranged in cellars beneath;—and all this in a region which was previously a waste of arid sands and scorching gravel, beset with wandering robbers and their camels. These wandering robbers he converted into faithful guides, as they are now found to be by every traveller; and evenladies with their infants are enabled to cross and re-cross the desert with as much security as if they were in Europe."
In acknowledgment of his services, Mr. Waghorn received the rank of lieutenant in the Royal Navy, a grant of £1500, and an annuity of £200 a-year from Government, and another annuity of £200 from the East India Company; but he did not live long to enjoy his well-earned rewards. The care, and anxiety, and fatigue he had undergone had shattered his constitution. Through some misunderstanding or mismanagement on the part of the East India Company, rivals were allowed to step in and carry off the chief profits of the overland system, and his last years were embittered by various disputes with the authorities. He died in the end of 1849, by years only in the prime of life; but old, and worn by his labours before his time. Such was the career of the "pioneer of the Overland Route."
But in connection with England's route to India, the name of Monsieur de Lesseps must never be forgotten, nor the great enterprise which, at so much cost, and in spite of so many obstacles, he successfully carried out—the Suez Canal. When he first projected it he met with most of the obstacles which are thrown in the way of great inventions. England, jealous of a scheme which seemed likely to throw into the hands of a foreign power the nearest route to her beloved India, stood sullenly aloof, and refusedto contribute moral or pecuniary support; while some of the most eminent English and foreign engineers openly declared that it could never be carried out. M. de Lesseps, however, was one of those men who, when they have seized a great idea, can never be thrown off it. It had taken full possession of his imagination, judgment, and intellect! he felt that itcould, and he determined that itshouldbe realized. He conquered every difficulty: he raised funds; he secured the support of his own government; and in 1856 he obtained from the Pasha of Egypt the exclusive privilege of constructing a ship-canal from Tyneh, near the ruins of the ancient Pelusium, to Suez.
M. de Lesseps determined that his canal should be cut in a straight line, with an average width of 330 feet, and at an uniform depth of 20 feet under low-water mark, while at each end was to be constructed a sluice-lock, 330 feet long by 70 wide. Further, at each end he proposed to execute a magnificent harbour; that at the Mediterranean end was to be extended five miles into the sea, so as to obtain a permanent depth of water for a ship drawing twenty-three feet, on account of the enormous quantity of mud annually silted up by the Nile; that at the Red Sea end was to be three miles long.
In 1865 the great canal was begun. The Mediterranean entrance is at Port Said, about the middle of the narrow neck of land between LakeMenzaleh and the sea, in the eastern part of the Delta. Thence it is carried for about twenty miles across Menzaleh Lake, being 112 yards wide at the surface, 26 yards at the bottom, and 26 feet deep. On each side an artificial bank rises some 15 feet high. The distance thence to Abu Ballah Lake is 11 miles, through ground which varies from 15 to 30 feet above the level of the sea. This lake being traversed, there is land again—a troublesome and shifty soil—to Timsah Lake, the canal being cut at a depth below the sea-level of 50 to 100 feet. On the shore of Timsah Lake has risen a new and busy town, the central point of the canal, and named Ismailia, in honour of the present Pasha of Egypt.
A space of eight miles intervenes between the Timsah Lake and the Bitter Lakes, and in this space the cuttings are very deep and difficult. The soil being almost purely sand, the constant labour of powerful dredging machines is constantly required, to prevent the channel from filling up. The deepest cutting occurs at El Guisr, or Girsch, and is no less than 85 feet below the surface: at the water-level it is 112 yards wide, at the summit-level 173 yards. In traversing the Bitter Lakes the course of the canal is marked by embankments. From the southern end of these lakes to Suez, a distance of about thirteen miles, the cuttings are heavy and deep.
After many discouraging failures, M. de Lesseps' great work was completed last year, and the formalopening of the canal took place in the presence of the Prince and Princess of Wales, and a goodly number of princes, potentates, and distinguished personages. It is now open to navigation from end to end, and ships of considerable tonnage have successfully accomplished the passage. Whether the canal is acommercialsuccess may still be doubted. The cost of further deepening and enlarging it, and of maintaining its banks and harbours, amounts to a sum which, as yet, the traffic charges are not at all likely to defray. But, in an engineering sense, the Suez Canal is one of the wonders of this wonderful nineteenth century.