From an early period of Rowland Hill's career at the Post Office he was subjected to almost constant personal attacks on the part of a certain weekly newspaper. Many were written with considerable plausibility, but all were void of substantial truth, while others were entire fabrications. All too were of the sort which no self-respecting man condescends to answer, yet which, perhaps all the more on account of that contemptuous silence, do infinite harm, and by an unthinking public are readily believed. Many of these attacks were traced to men who had left the postal service—to the no small advantage of that service—and whose dismissal was supposed to be the work of the permanent postal head; and one such man at least, a scribe with a ready pen, and ink in which the ingredient gall was over-liberally mingled, vented his spleen during a long succession of years with a perseverance worthy a better cause. As the newspaper in question had rather a wide circulation—since when did harmful literature fail to meet ready sale?—and the postal employees were, in many cases, no wiser than their fellow-readers, it was perhaps not unnatural that the attacks, which were directed more frequently and angrily against the postal reformer than against his colleagues, should meet with credence. “It certainly was rather ill-timed,” says Rowland Hill, on hearing[212] of a particularly vicious libel, “for in the previous month (November 1858) I had induced the Treasury to abandon its intention of issuing an order forbidding the receipt of Christmas boxes, and also had obtained some improvement in their scale of wages, the Treasury granting even more than was applied for.”[213]
It was not long before the agitation assumed a still more serious form, no fewer than three anonymous letters threatening assassination being received at short intervals by the harassed reformer. The heads of the different postal departments, becoming alarmed for the safety of the permanent chief's life, advised his temporary absence from the Office; and Mr Peacock, its solicitor, who knew that an expert had satisfied himself and others that the handwriting of the first of these letters could be traced to a certain postman who had been giving much trouble of late, proposed immediate arrest and prosecution. But, on comparing the suspected man's actual handwriting with that, disguised though it was, of the anonymous letter, Rowland Hill disagreed with the expert's view, and refused assent to so drastic a proceeding; happily so, for later circumstances seemed to point to justification of the adverse opinion. My father also declined to absent himself from the Office, and even when a fourth letter appeared, in which were mentioned the place, day, and hour when the fatal blow would be struck, he still, as was his custom, walked the last half mile of his way to work, armed only with his umbrella, and on the fateful occasion passed the indicated spot without encountering harm of any kind. Later than this, somehow, word of the anonymous letters reached my mother's ears, though not, of course, through her husband; and thenceforth she made it her daily practice to drive down to the Post Office, and accompany him home.
This episode would hardly be worth the telling did it not serve to show how little need there generally is to pay attention to letters, however threatening, when written by persons who dare not reveal their identity. On occasions of this sort memory brings back to mind the story of the brave Frenchman who at the time of the Franco-German war wrote to the then newly-proclaimed German Emperor, William I., at Versailles, to remind him of sundry ugly passages in his life, and to threaten him with condign punishment—the writer being a near neighbour, and appending to his letter his actual name and address. This man at least had the courage of his opinions. The anonymous scribbler is seldom so valorous.
In 1858 “The Post Office Library and Literary Association” was established, the institution being aided by the delivery of lectures, an enterprise in which several of the leading officials participated. Mr West gave a fascinating discourse on etymology; and Rowland Hill took his turn by lecturing on the annular eclipse of the sun (“visible at Greenwich”) which happened in that year.[214] In 1859 similar institutions were started at most of the London district offices, and in some provincial towns.
When the volunteer movement was in the heyday of its youth, the Post Office was one of the earliest of the great public departments to establish a corps of its own, whose exploits were humorously related by “Ensign” Edmund Yates, under the heading “The Grimgribber Rifle Volunteers,” in several numbers of All the Year Round of the period. The corps became amalgamated with the “Civil Service” volunteer force, of which fine body it was perhaps the pioneer company.
“I wrote,” says Rowland Hill, “to the Postmaster-General, Lord Colchester, on the subject (of raising a volunteer corps), and obtained his ready sanction. Upon my communicating with the heads of departments, I was told that there would be readiness enough to volunteer if only the expenses could be provided for, or reduced to a low rate; that the men would willingly give their time, but thought it somewhat unreasonable that there should be a demand for their money also. The difficulty was overcome by the same means, and I suppose to about the same extent, as in other corps; but from that day to this I have been unable to understand the policy or propriety of making men pay for liberty to serve their country, a practice which must, in the nature of things, debar large numbers from enrolment. The movement was not limited to the chief office, and was especially satisfactory at Edinburgh.”[215]
In July 1859 Sir Edward Baines, proprietor of the Leeds Mercury, wrote to introduce to Rowland Hill the inventor of the Post Office Savings[216] Bank scheme, Mr (afterwards Sir) Charles Sikes, a banker of Huddersfield—a scheme which has been a great convenience to people of limited means. Depositors and deposits have increased, till the modest venture launched in 1860, under the auspices of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr Gladstone, has grown into a colossal undertaking. Sir Charles, with characteristic lack of self-advertisement, never sought reward of any kind for the good work he had initiated. He was satisfied with the knowledge that it had proved of immense benefit to his fellow-men. He long survived the carrying into practical shape of his scheme; and now that he is dead, his invention has, of course, been claimed by or for others.
The postal reform is one which, save as regards its most salient features, has been established somewhat on the “gradual instalment system,” each instalment, as a rule, coming into operation after a hard struggle on the part of its promoter, and several years later than when first proposed. Prepayment of postage, for example, one of the most essential parts of my father's plan, was long allowed to remain optional, although he had “counted upon universal prepayment as an important means towards simplifying the accounts, with consequent economy of time and expense, the expedient of double postage on post-payment being regarded as a temporary mode of avoiding the difficulties naturally attending a transition state; and though hitherto deferring the measure to more pressing matters, I had always looked forward to a time suitable for taking the step necessary to the completion of my plan. The almost universal resort to prepayment had rendered accounts of postage very short and easy, but obviously universal practice alone could render them altogether unnecessary.”[217]
The attempt to make prepayment compulsory was renewed in 1859, the proportion of unpaid letters having by that date become very small. But the public generally were insensible to the advantage to the service which economy of time and labour must secure, while the few active malcontents who thought themselves qualified to be a law unto themselves, if not to others, raised so much clamour that it was considered advisable to postpone issue of the edict. An error of judgment, perhaps, since the public soon becomes accustomed to any rule that is at once just and easy to follow; as indeed had already been shown by the readiness—entirely contrary to official prediction—with which prepayment had, from the first, been accepted. After all, submission to compulsory prepayment of our postage is not one whit more slavish than submission to compulsory prepayment of our railway and other vehicular fares, a gentle form of coercion to which even those of us who are the most revolutionary of mind assent with exemplary meekness.
So far back as 1842[218] Rowland Hill had recommended the establishment of a parcel post, but, although renewing his efforts both in 1858 and 1863, he was forced to leave accomplishment of this boon to later reformers. In the last-named year, however, the pattern post came into operation.