He had a remarkable memory for voices—that is a faculty which often becomes acute in blind people. It was said of him that if he heard a voice once he never forgot it. Sometimes when spoken to by a person whom he had not heard for many years, a puzzled look would cross his face, but it would suddenly clear up as he called the person by name. His sense of hearing became so keen that he could tell when his friends were not feeling as well as usual from their voices. Often he would startle them by saying: "What's the matter with you to-day, you're looking pale?" A man who had not been near him for twenty years once spoke to him and without a moment's hesitation Fawcett called him by name.
Henry Fawcett made two unsuccessful attempts to enter Parliament. He was defeated in Cambridge in 1863 by only eighty-one votes and a few months later he was defeated in Brighton. Many people voted against him because they thought that blindness was too severe a handicap for any man to become really useful in that great assembly. He himself did not think so, however, and he made a third attempt in 1865—when he was thirty-two years of age—and this time he was elected.
It was a proud day for Henry Fawcett when he entered Parliament. After he became blind no one, not even those who loved him most, believed that it was possible. Only a determination that absolutely refused to be thwarted, made his election possible.
Surrounded by many of the greatest statesmen of the nineteenth century, the blind man quietly took his place in Parliament. During his first session there he said very little. He had to learn the ways of Parliament, which is a difficult task for any one, and made much harder in his case. He made his first speech in March, 1866. Unlike most men he had no notes to help him. He had to rely altogether upon his fine memory. His speech was listened to with rapt attention. The picture of this tall, sightless man with earnest voice and manner, cast a spell over the House, and even those who disagreed with him were deeply impressed by his fine appearance and earnest manner.
In the years which followed Henry Fawcett made a great many speeches in Parliament. He was by no means a silent member. In every good cause which came up for discussion his voice was heard, and always on the side of those who needed help. Not only the struggling people of the British Isles interested him, but for several years he fought very hard on behalf of the poor people in far-off India. He became such a champion of the Indians that he was nicknamed, "The member for India," and he received many letters expressing deep gratitude from those people whom he could never hope to see.
He entered into a great many political battles, but there was one thing which even his opponents admitted; that was he never sought anything for himself. He laboured hard to help those whose lot he considered was less fortunate than his own.
In 1880 Henry Fawcett was made Postmaster-General of England, a position of very great importance and responsibility. There were over ninety thousand employees under the administration of the postoffice.
One bright spring day Henry Fawcett took up his duties at the General Post Office. He was introduced to the heads of the various departments and to those next in rank. As he began to warmly shake the hands of all to whom he was being introduced, some one whispered to him, "It is not usual for Her Majesty's Postmaster-General to shake hands with any one in the office below the rank of head of a department." It took a good deal to make Henry Fawcett indignant, but that remark pretty nearly did it. He said, "I suppose I am at liberty to make what use I like of my own hands."
He took a very great interest in all who in any way served the Post Office. From the first day that he took over his position he laboured hard to improve working conditions. He interested himself in every employee and nothing ever seemed too much trouble to this blind man of almost infinite patience and sympathy. No doubt his wonderful kindness meant that some took unfair advantage of him, but he found his supreme happiness in realizing that never before in the history of the great English Post-Office system had the work been done so thoroughly and to the satisfaction of the public. One of the great statesmen of that day said that, "The Postoffice could never have a more capable Postmaster-General, nor its officers a truer friend."
In December, 1883, he was taken seriously ill with diphtheria, and this was followed by typhoid fever. For a while his life was despaired of, and it illustrates what a large place in the life of his country the blind man had filled, to know that all England read the bulletins which told of his condition. The Queen herself, telegraphed every day, and sometimes oftener.