Outside London, the Scotsman—then renowned for its advanced views—the Manchester Guardian, the Liverpool Mercury, and the Leeds Mercury—then in the hands of the well-known Baines family—were, perhaps, especially active. Their support and that of other ably conducted provincial papers never varied, and to the end of his life Rowland Hill spoke gratefully of the enlightened and powerful aid thus given.
FOOTNOTES:
[66] “All the members of his family,” says Mr John C. Francis in Notes and Queries, 10th Series, No. 141, 8th September 1906, “were proud of Rowland and his scheme. There was no jealousy: each worked in harmony. The brothers looked at all times to each other for counsel; it was a perfect home, with the good old father as its head. Truly have his words been verified: 'The union of my children has proved their strength.'” ... “Never did a family so unite in working for the common good.”
[67] “By his inventive mechanical skill,” says Mr Francis, “he greatly improved the machinery [at Somerset House]. My father frequently had occasion to see him, and always found him ready to consider any suggestion made. Especially was this the case when he obtained permission for a stamp to be made with the sender's name round the rim. This was designed for him by Edwin Hill.”
[68] Of Edwin's kindness of heart many instances are remembered. Of these, two, characteristic of the man, shall be selected. The head gardener at Bruce Castle lived in the (then) village of Tottenham down a narrow entry at a corner of which stood one of the inevitable drink-traps which in this civilised country are permitted to be set up wherever the poor most do congregate. John simply could not pass that public-house. He was too good a man to be allowed to sink into a sot; and eventually my uncle bethought him of building a gardener's cottage in a corner of the Castle grounds. The plan succeeded: John lived to a hale old age, and some of his children did well in the world. One afternoon, when my uncle was walking along the Strand on his way home from Somerset House after an arduous day's work, he saw a shabbily-dressed child sobbing bitterly. Now, Edwin Hill could never pass a little one in distress, and therefore stopped to ask what was the matter. The child had wandered from home, and was lost. The address it gave was at some distance, and in quite an opposite direction from that in which my uncle was bound. Most men would have made over the small waif to the first policeman who came in sight. But not this man. He took the wearied mite in his arms, carried it home, and placed it in its anxious mother's arm.
[69] “Matthew Davenport Hill,” p. 142. By his daughters, R. and F. Hill.
[70] In the Ninth of which was embodied the Commissioners' examination of Rowland Hill made in February 1837. It is curious that even these able men, when discussing the plan with its author, spoke with most hesitation of that detail of whose wisdom so many officials were more than doubtful, yet which, from the first, never presented any real difficulty—the practicability of prepayment—“Life,” i. 274.
[71] As we have seen, in the chapter on “The Old Postal System,” Sir Walter Scott has made a somewhat biting remark upon the “few pence” which the Post Office added to its revenue on letters which were sent a long round in order to meet Departmental convenience.
[72] “Hansard,” xxxv. (2nd Series), 422.
[73] “Raw material by the half-hundred-weight” and “by post” in non-prepayment days is suggestive of heavy demands upon my father's purse. But no demand was made. Mr Wallace's frank as an M.P. would cause the packages he sent to be carried free of charge. It was literally a cabful of books which arrived, thus adding yet another item to the oft-quoted list of huge things which could “go free” when sent by a member of the privileged classes. One trembles to think what would have been the charge to one of the unprivileged.