A history of postal agitation from fifty years ago till the present day

by H. G. Swift

In due course, on October 21, 1871, a Telegraphists’ Association was formed, Manchester being the head centre; and from the moment of its inauguration three Manchester men, T. W. Mulholland, Hollingworth, and Heald, were the acknowledged leaders. Needless to say, the newly-formed association found plenty of work to do from the very start.

The authorities, seemingly anticipating that there would presently be trouble among the men, had made some preparations for an emergency, and at the same time provided themselves a means by which the old company men could be discarded if they proved too importunate. In some of the larger towns selected men were made “clerks in charge.” Those who undertook the rotation were for the most part the old companies’ transferred men and others who had been engaged after the transfer, and who were beginning to smart under the conviction that they had been enticed into the service under false pretences. In their eagerness to put a foil on the prevailing discontent the authorities took into the service any one who had the barest and most rudimentary knowledge of an instrument; the halt, the lame, and almost the blind being also accepted. Though often of little use, these newly-imported men in some cases succeeded in getting higher wages than the men who did the real work. Scores of old companies’ men were getting but a pound a week or less, while ex-pupil-teachers and others were brought in from the streets and given twenty-five shillings. Such things could not but produce still further friction, and it looked as if the preference would be given to these men who were so unjustly set off against them. In fact it soon proved so in some instances, and a number of the younger of the companies’ men became so disgusted that some joined foreign cable telegraph companies, preferring to trust their future to private employers than to a Government department which could treat them so. Others went to America and were still better received. A large number of the youngsters whose fathers or relations were already in the Post-Office had been placed under tuition as learners before the transfer, and these and the others, ex-schoolmasters, &c., were induced to take little or no part in the drama.

It is significant that soon after the starting of the agitation, Mr. Scudamore, the Permanent Under-Secretary, promised a new scale of classification. This promise lulled the discontent for a while; but the long-continued delay in bringing it out brought the feeling to an acute stage. The men did not let their mutterings go unheard.

The leaders of the Telegraphists’ Association now became aware that all their communications to the various branches of the movement were, both letters and telegrams, being “Grahamed” or tapped, and it was more than believed that the authorities were exercising a rigorous censorship over the correspondence between members. To avoid this, messages to other towns were frequently forwarded by train, and eventually a secret code was arranged, the telegrams appertaining to the business of the movement being addressed to a private firm in Manchester. These telegrams referring to the arrangement of meetings and other business were handed in and paid for in the ordinary way over the counter, and, in the case of Manchester, all were addressed to Doncaster & Knowles, 75 Oxford Street, who, being in sympathy with the men, placed their address at their disposal. The code which was adopted was varied from time to time and as events progressed. The towns affected were referred to in these secret messages by various Christian names: “John” was London, “James” Manchester, “Charley” Birmingham, “Peter” Sheffield, “Tom” Liverpool, “Ben” Bristol, and so on through the whole list of towns. Numerals from one to nine were “tallow,” “rape,” “olive,” “cotton,” “linseed,” “petroleum,” “currants,” “molasses,” and “whisky.” When the strike agitation was fully started the code was considerably amplified and rendered more complicated for safety.

Meantime the prevailing discontent and the threatening aspect of affairs did not escape the observation of the press any more than of the authorities. A letter appeared in the London Standard directing attention to the movement in the provinces, and the imminence of a strike unless the authorities took action speedily. A day or two after, on the 7th December 1871, officials from the Chief Office were sent down to Manchester to inquire into the condition of things. The result of this official inquiry was the immediate suspension of the leaders, Mulholland, Heald, Hacker, Hollingworth, and others forming the committee, while the same course was adopted at Liverpool and Bradford. The men were suspended for fomenting agitation and for forming an association in contravention of official regulation and the Law of Conspiracy. Similar Star-Chamber inquiries were also made at Liverpool the same day, with the result that one of the Liverpool committee, C. Nottingham, was suspended. It is difficult to understand why this man was singled out for suspension, as he was by no means the prime mover of the Liverpool movement; Norman, Ryan (the treasurer), and others there being far more prominent. Nottingham was away ill at home when the officials desired him to be brought before them, and he was accordingly brought, ill as he was, in a cab to the office. After hearing his sentence of suspension he was allowed to return home as best he might. When the Liverpool men realised what had taken place the excitement and indignation was great, and a meeting was called for the same evening. The meeting was held at a house in Ann Street. They had no sooner met, however, than they were made aware that the house was being watched by official detectives, who were stationed to secretly take the names of those attending. The warning was passed to those on their way to the meeting; while those who had already assembled were passed out by another door. Another rendezvous was found a little later at the Great Eastern Hotel, and here the eager crowd of outlawed telegraphists met to discuss the serious situation. Here it was decided, as the result of their deliberations, to present an ultimatum to the postmaster to the effect that if the suspended men were not reinstated by noon, and a definite time fixed for the proper classification of the staff, they would turn out on strike. To solemnise the decision come to a borrowed Bible was produced, and the men present swore upon it that they would be true to each other, and not desert the cause. Telegrams were forthwith despatched that night informing other towns what Liverpool had decided on. These telegrams were, however, as it was suspected, intercepted. The ultimatum was next day, December 8th, presented to the postmaster, and they waited. Twelve o’clock struck, and simultaneously a gong, the sounding of which was the prearranged signal for decisive action, began to ring. Immediately every one rose from his place in the instrument-room. But before they could leave in a body, the postmaster appeared on the scene, and standing in the doorway, made a speech in terms of entreaty and warning and proceeded to read an official paper. But by this time the feeling had got out of bounds; the tide had risen and was not to be pushed back with a mop. The postmaster had to stand aside, and the operators swept past him, then into the street; and the strike began. If there was one office in particular that showed the example it was Liverpool; Manchester, Bradford, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dublin, and Cork, where similar scenes had occurred, following suit immediately afterwards.

The same evening a meeting was held at the Clock Inn, when a telegram was read from Mr. Scudamore to the Liverpool postmaster stating that the Manchester strikers had gone in to their duties. In his anxiety and excess of zeal during this troublous time the Under-Secretary was not above practising deception on the men, believing probably that the end justified the means. It was to get the recalcitrants back to work that this telegram was sent from headquarters. But the ruse was detected by the presence in Liverpool of a Manchester delegate, who was able on the spot to at once contradict it and reassure the Liverpool men that his town was firm. The suspension of the leaders was the signal for a general strike, and brought to a culminating point all the resentment and dissatisfaction which had been rankling within the breasts of the men for a twelvemonth past. In an instant the disquieting news was flashed from Manchester and Liverpool to every outpost in the kingdom. The beacons flamed up everywhere in a single hour. With one accord the men not only of Liverpool, but of Bradford, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dublin, and Cork, struck, and refused to resume their duties until the suspended men at Manchester were reinstated. As showing the spirit that animated them, one of the Manchester officials of the association, who was on sick leave through an accident, immediately on learning the step that had been taken sent a message to his chief to the effect that he also was to be regarded as out on strike.

But the secret censorship exercised over all telegrams suspected of emanating from the affected men considerably handicapped them in their action. Still, by the use of their prearranged code—whole sentences being signified by such names and words as “Turkish,” “Canadian,” “Trunks,” “Bonds,” “Arabia,” &c., &c.—they were fairly well able to communicate with Manchester and other places. Conflicting rumours, which it was not always easy to contradict or verify on the spot, were set afloat as to the movements. But what had been a strike at Manchester and elsewhere became a little later a lock-out at various other offices in the provinces. The assistance and sympathy shown by the telegraphists of other towns betrayed a feeling of general unrest, and there were other symptoms as unmistakable which decided the authorities to deal summarily with the whole. They decided on a coup d’état, hoping that one bold stroke would terrorise them into obedience and smash their organisation.

At noon next day it was noticed at various offices that the messages received bore the signatures of strange senders at the other end of the wires. The fact occasioned no little comment, and the telegraphists of Bradford, Hull, and elsewhere, and in all the offices which of late had made themselves prominent in agitation, were not long in arriving at the correct conclusion. The storm had come, and they had got to face it, as they relied on their comrades in other distant towns also facing it. The same method of procedure happened everywhere, and in every affected office alike. A man was mysteriously sent away from his instrument and did not return, then another, and another. Meanwhile those remaining at the instruments were endeavouring to obtain some information from the other end, but to all their inquiries there was dead silence, and they realised that their interrogations had only met with the fate of being silently recorded against them many miles away. Then some one in the room would break the tension of silence, and they would troop out in a body, knowing as if by instinct that the same was being faithfully enacted elsewhere. Then in most cases as they trooped out from the instrument-room they would be confronted with several burly town policemen, who would half direct, half hustle them into another room, where they were virtually made prisoners awaiting the pleasure of the local postmaster. In some cases the postmaster would carry out his official instruction neatly and politely. If it were so, all went well; but in several instances the blundering over-zeal of an unpopular martinet nearly precipitated a riot. There is reason to think that the official instruction from London was to the effect that it should be effected as quietly and as discreetly as possible, and with few exceptions the delicate task of the postmasters was so carried out. Then while the telegraphists were waiting the arrival of the postmaster and other officials from whom they were to learn what was expected of them, a number of strangers newly arrived from London took their vacant places in the instrument-room. That being done, the door would be opened and the work of inquisition began. Generally the local postmaster would be accompanied by the officials, and in some cases by the influential public men of the town, the mayor or the vicar. They were admonished for their behaviour in leaving their instruments in the manner they had, even though it had been so confidently expected that they would act so, and they were offered the opportunity of going back to their work, but on conditions which they as a body could not accept.

In one case, at Bradford, they were preached to for half-an-hour by a colonial bishop, the vicar of the town, Bishop Ryan, on the duties of obedience to their pastors and masters, and the desirability of remaining good and dutiful in that position in which it had pleased God for some wise purpose to place them. The good bishop, however, did not forget, in the course of his little homily, to turn to the officials forming a cordon round the postmaster, and remind them that it was his opinion that the men were being disgracefully treated. The postmaster addressed them, and others addressed them. But the men having taken the step they had, and feeling certain that exactly the same step was being taken in all other towns, would not return to work that day. The men were then released on their own recognisances. Later, however, they were again called up, and directly questioned as to whether they each belonged to their association; and if so, would they sign an agreement to relinquish their society, and promise never again to agitate? As was only to be anticipated, every self-respecting man refused. They were then, in some cases by policemen already stationed, unceremoniously bundled into the street as dismissed from Post-Office employ.

In each of the towns where this took place there was generally much sympathy shown for the locked-out or rather dismissed men. At Liverpool there was a public meeting outside Brown’s Library. A strike fund was organised, and some of the leading cotton and stockbrokers of the Exchange contributed to the fund no less than £70 by passing round the hat.