CHAPTER XXVII.
The Postman—His dress—The Post Office—Changes of site—Sir Robert Vyner—Rates of postage and deliveries—Mail coaches—Places of starting and routes—Number of houses in London—Description of them—Their furniture.
ONE PARTICULAR feature of the Streets, was, and still is, one of our most trusted servants, the Postman. In those days he was a somebody, who held personal relations with his clients. None of your rat-tats, and “Look in the letter box”; he generally had something to collect, for there were no postage stamps in those days, and that being the fact, people very often left the postage to be collected at the other end. The officials mounted a hat with a cockade, scarlet coat (the Royal livery), blue breeches, and, of course, white stockings. They used, as in my young days, to collect the letters, nay, in many country districts they do it now.
A POSTMAN.
The location of the Post Office has been changed many times. We are apt to associate it with St. Martin’s-le-Grand, but it was not always so. It was originally in Cloak Lane, near Dowgate, whence it was removed to the Black Swan, in Bishopsgate Street; and, at the time of which we write, it occupied the site of Sir Robert Vyner’s mansion, in Lombard Street: that Sir Robert Vyner, who is historical, if only for his treatment of his king, Charles II.—a story which is well told in No. 462 of the Spectator: “Sir Robert was a very loyal man, and, if you will allow me the expression, very fond of his sovereign; out, what with the joy he felt at heart for the honour done him by his prince, and through the warmth he was in with the continual toasting healths to the Royal Family, his lordship grew a little fond of His Majesty, and entered into a familiarity not altogether so graceful in a public place. The King understood very well how to extricate himself in all kinds of difficulties, and, with a hint to the company to avoid ceremony, stole off and made towards his coach, which stood ready for him in Guildhall Yard. But the Mayor liked his company so well, and was grown so intimate, that he pursued him hastily, and, catching him fast by the hand, cried out with a vehement oath and accent, ‘Sir, you shall stay and take t’other bottle.’ The airy monarch looked kindly at him over his shoulder, and, with a smile, and graceful air, for I saw him at the time, and do now, repeated this line of the old song:
‘He that’s drunk is as great as a king,’
and immediately returned back, and complied with his landlord.”
Then, as now, the Lombard Street Post Office was wasted. “It is a national reproach when edifices of this kind, which, from our great mercantile concerns, afford occasion for a display of public architecture, and ornament to the Metropolis, are lost to those purposes.” This was the comment of a contemporary, and the site of the present Post Office in St. Martin’s-le-Grand was not fixed upon or, rather, the first stone was not laid, till May, 1824. As now, the Post Office was always changing its rules and rates—to meet emergencies and keep abreast of the times—so that it would expand this notice to too great a length, were I to chronicle all its changes. Perhaps a short relation of its doings in 1804—which would be the mean of the decade—will give as good an idea as any other.
“Houses, or boxes, for receiving letters before four o’clock, at the West end of the town, and five o’clock in the City, are open in every part of the Metropolis; after that hour bell-men collect the letters during another hour, receiving a fee of one penny for each letter; but, at the General Post Office, in Lombard Street, letters are received till seven o’clock; after that, till half an hour after seven, a fee of sixpence must be paid; and from half after seven till a quarter before eight, the postage must be paid, as well as the fee of sixpence. Persons, till lately, were, if well known, permitted to have back any letter put in, if required; but, by an order of June, 1802, the masters of receiving houses are not allowed to return letters on any pretence whatever.
“Letters from (? for) the East Indies must be delivered at the India House, where a letter-box is provided for their reception.
“Those for the coast of Africa, or at single settlements in particular parts of the world, may be sent either through the ship letter office, or by the bags which await the sailing of ships, and which are kept at the respective coffee houses near the Royal Exchange.”
We should consider these arrangements somewhat primitive; but then, telegrams and frequent mails have spoilt us. The twopenny post was mainly local, there being six deliveries and collections of letters in town daily, and many country places had two deliveries and collections.
The letters were distributed throughout the length and breadth of the country by means of Mail Coaches, which carried passengers at an average rate of sixpence per mile. This system was inaugurated, and organized, at the latter end of the Eighteenth Century, by a Mr. John Palmer, of Bath, who not only suggested the routes, but to prevent robbery, which, previously, was rife, had every coach accompanied by a well-armed guard, and these coaches accomplished their journeys at a uniform rate, including stoppages, of eight miles an hour. They did not start from the Post Office, but from various inns, and the following is a list of the coaches, and places of starting:
| Dover Portsmouth | } | Angel, St. Clements. |
|
Bristol Bath Exeter Liverpool Manchester Norwich Taunton Yarmouth Ipswich | Swan with Two Necks, Lad Lane. | |
| Poole | Bell and Crown, Holborn. | |
| Chester and Holyhead Worcester | } | Golden Cross, Charing Cross. |
| Gloucester | { | Golden Cross, Charing Cross; and the Angel, St. Clements, Strand. |
|
York and Edinburgh Glasgow Shrewsbury Leed | Bull and Mouth, Bull and Mouth Street | |
| Harwich | Spread Eagle, Gracechurch Street. | |
|
Chichester Cambridge Rye Brighton | Unknown. |
The letters were first of all sorted; then they were weighed, and their proper amount of postage marked on them; they were counted, packed in boxes for the different towns, and an account kept of their number; they were then put in bags, which were sealed, and given in charge of the mail guard. Postage was heavy in those days. Take the charges for 1810:
| d. | |||||||
| From any Post Office in England or Wales to any place notexceeding 15 miles from such Office | 4 | ||||||
| For any distance above | 15 | miles, | and not | exceeding | 30 | miles | 5 |
| ” | 30 | ” | ” | 50 | ” | 6 | |
| ” | 50 | ” | ” | 80 | ” | 7 | |
| ” | 80 | ” | ” | 120 | ” | 8 | |
| ” | 120 | ” | ” | 170 | ” | 9 | |
| ” | 170 | ” | ” | 230 | ” | 10 | |
| ” | 230 | ” | ” | 300 | ” | 11 | |
| ” | 300 | ” | ” | 400 | ” | 12 | |
| And so on in proportion, 1d. for every additional 100 miles. | |||||||
London, at this time, was not beautiful. Apart from the public buildings, its 160,000 houses (the number estimated in 1804) were not lovely to look upon. Utilitarian they were, to a degree—long rows of brick-built tenements, with oblong holes for windows. There was no attempt at architecture: that had gone out with the first George; and, during the first half of this century, domestic architecture in this country was at its lowest possible ebb. Just fancy! in the first decade, Baker Street was considered “perhaps the handsomest street in London.” Can condemnation go further? All the houses were the same pattern, varied only by the height of the rooms, and the number of stories, which were mostly three, and very rarely exceeded four. There was the front parlour, and the back parlour, a wretched narrow passage, or hall, with a flight of stairs leading to the drawing-rooms. In the basement were the kitchen and scullery.
TALES OF WONDER.
The inside, even, was not redeemed by beautiful furniture. The rich, of course, furnished sumptuously, after their lights—which, at that time, represented anything of classical Greek, or Roman, shape—no matter whether suitable to the purpose for which it was employed, or not. Of course, as now, those lower in the social scale, aped, as far as they could, the tastes of the upper classes; and, as they could not afford the sumptuous gilding, and carving, of the rich, the ordinary furniture of that time was heavy, dull, and dispiriting. Take, for example, the accompanying picture, where, from the style of dress of the ladies, we can but draw one inference—that they were in a good social position. The furniture is dull, and heavy; stiff, high-backed chairs; a table, which would now only be allowed in the nursery; but one candle, and that with a cotton wick, needing snuffing! A tall, narrow, and tasteless mantelpiece frames a poor, starved stove of semi-circular shape, with flat front; the fire-irons stand against the mantelpiece, and a bowed fender, of perforated sheet brass, enclosed the hearth; a small hearth-rug with a fringe, and a bell cord with a plain brass ring, complete the furniture of the room, as far as Gillray depicted it. Not quite our idea of luxurious comfort, yet it was comfort then; tastes were simpler, huge fortunes had not yet been made in manufactures, railway contracting, speculations on the Stock Exchange, or promoting companies—people were more localized (in fact, they could not move), and the intercourse with abroad was very little; and, if it had existed, the hatred of anything foreign, or, especially, French, would have, at once, condemned any innovation.
