+-------------------------------+Ann M----OileywhiteAmshire+-------------------------------+
The probability is that the last-mentioned letter will come back to the Dead Letter-Office, on account of no town being given in the address; still, the usual course is to send it out to the local district designated, there being always the possibility that certain individuals may be locally known.
"_Ashby-de-la-Zouch_" is a town to spell which gives infinite trouble to letter-writers; but the Post-Office official is especially lenient and patient in cases of this kind. There are fifty different ways of spelling the name, and few letters, except those of the better cla.s.ses, give it rightly spelt. "Hasbedellar-such" is the ordinary spelling among the poor living at a distance.
+---------------------------------------+Ash Bedles in suchfor John Horsel, grinderin the county of Lestysheer+---------------------------------------+
is a copy of a veritable address meant for the above town.
The blind letter officers of an earlier date succ.u.mbed before the following letter:--
+-------------------------------------------+For Mister w.i.l.l.y wot brinds de Baberin Lang-Gaster ware te gal is+-------------------------------------------+
but the dead letter officers were enabled from the contents to make out that it was meant for the editor of a Lancaster paper, "where the gaol is." The communication enclosed was an essay written by a foreigner against public schools!
The blind officers are supplied with all the princ.i.p.al London and provincial directories, court guides, gazetteers, &c.; and by the help of this, their library of reference, added to their own experience and intelligence, they are generally able to put again into circulation without the necessity of opening them, five out of six of all the letters which are handed over to them. The addresses of some letters are at once seen to be the result of mistake on the part of senders. Letters addressed "Lombard Street, Manchester," "St. Paul"s Churchyard, Liverpool," both obviously intended for London, are sent out for trial by the letter-carriers at what are believed to be their real destinations. (See _Ninth Report_.) Letters, again, for persons of rank and eminence, dignitaries of the Church, prominent officers of the army or navy, whose correct addresses are known, or can be ascertained, are immediately sent out for delivery to their right destination, however erroneously directed, without question or examination of contents. The following strange letters, meant for the eye of royalty, would not be impeded in their progress in any way:--
+----------------------------+Keen Vic Tory atWiner Casel+----------------------------+
and another--
+----------------------------+MissQueene Victoriaof England+----------------------------+
would go to Windsor Castle without fail; while the following, posted in London at the breaking-out of the Polish Insurrection, would find its way to St. Petersburg as fast as packet could carry it:--
+----------------------------------+To the King of RusheyaFeoren, with speed.+----------------------------------+
When the letter-carriers and the blind officers have expended all their skill upon certain letters in vain, the next step is to send them to
THE DEAD-LETTER OFFICE.
in order that they may be returned to the writers, provided any clue can be obtained from the contents as to their whereabouts. The branch in which this work is accomplished is now a very considerable establishment, employing at least a score more clerks, &c. than in the days of the old postage. In 1763, just a hundred years ago, the records show that two clerks only were engaged in opening "_dead and insolvent letters_." Now, nearly fifty officers are employed in the same duties.
Nor are these duties by any means so only in name. Last year considerably over two millions of letters were returned to their writers through the Dead-Letter Office from failures in the attempts to deliver them. "Three-quarters of the non-deliveries," says the Postmaster-General, "were on account of the letters being insufficiently or incorrectly addressed, nearly 11,000 letters having been posted _without any address at all_."
In every provincial post-office in England and Wales a dead or returned letter-bag is now forwarded daily to London, containing all the letters which, from any cause, cannot be delivered. Each letter bears on its front, written prominently in red ink, the reason of its non-delivery.
Thus, if the addressee cannot be found, or should have left the town, the words "Cannot be found," or "Gone--left no address," are written respectively. On the arrival of these bags in London, inclosed in the larger bags containing the general correspondence, they are at once pa.s.sed to the "returned-letter branch," as the Dead-Letter Office is called, where no time is lost in opening them. Every letter received is first examined by an experienced and responsible officer, to make sure that it has been actually presented according to its address, and that the reasons a.s.signed on the cover of the letter are sufficient to account for its non-delivery. In doubtful cases, before the letter is opened, the directories and other books of reference, of which there is a plentiful supply in this office, are consulted, and should it be found or thought that there has been any oversight or neglect, the letter is re-issued, with proper instructions, by the first post. About 300 letters are thus re-issued daily, many of which ultimately reach the persons for whom they are intended.
When it has been fully ascertained that nothing further can be done to effect the delivery of an imperfectly or improperly addressed letter, it only remains to have it sent back to the writer. This is done, if possible, without the letter being opened. By an arrangement of ten years" standing, if the returned letter has the writer"s name and address embossed on the back of the envelope, impressed on the seal, or written or printed anywhere outside, it will not be opened, but forwarded back according to this address. We may point out here, however, that this arrangement, excellent and satisfactory as it is, has sometimes led to serious mistakes and confusion; so much so, in fact, that the Postmaster-General, in his report for 1861, appealed to the public on the subject. It would appear that the practice of using another person"s embossed envelope is on the increase. When such a letter, according to the arrangement, is forwarded to the supposed writer, it has frequently fallen into the wrong hands (the master and merchant instead of the clerk or other servant), and grievous complaints have been made on the subject. The remedy, of course, lies with letter-writers themselves. If there are no outward marks to indicate the sender, the letter is then opened, and, if a suitable address can be found inside, the letter is inclosed in the well-known dead-letter envelope and forwarded according to that address. If a letter should be found to contain anything of value, such as bank-notes, drafts, postage-stamps, the precaution is taken of having a special record taken of it, and it is then sent back as a registered dead letter. Money to the value of 12,000_l._ or 14,000_l._ is annually found in these returned letters. Of this sum about 500_l._ per annum falls into the public exchequer, on account of no address being found inside, and no inquiry being made for the missing letters. A vast number of bank post-bills and bills of exchange are likewise found, amounting in all, and on the average, to something like 3,000,000_l._ a-year. These bills, however, as well as money-order advices, always afford some clue to the senders, even supposing no address should be given inside the letter, and inquiries are set on foot at the bankers and others whose names may be given in the paper transactions. Forty thousand letters reach the English returned branch each year containing property of different kinds. Many presents, such as rings, pins, brooches, never reach their destination, and are never sent back to the sender, because they are often unaccompanied with any letter. These articles, of course, become the property of the Crown.
Postmasters of Irish towns send their "dead and insolvent letters" to Dublin, and the residuum of the local Scotch post-towns are sent to Edinburgh. In both these capitals, this particular cla.s.s of letters is dealt with in exactly the same manner as in the London office. We are a.s.sured that the letters themselves, and the articles found in the Scotch and Irish dead letters, ill.u.s.trate no little the characters, the feeling, and habits of the two people. The Scotch have, comparatively speaking, the fewest dead letters; and as the writers are generally careful to give their addresses inside the letters, little trouble is said to be experienced in returning them, if it is necessary. The Irish dead letters are more numerous than either the English or the Scotch.
This mainly arises from the circ.u.mstance of the nomadic habits of a considerable portion of the Irish people: owing also to the same circ.u.mstance, it is impossible to return many of the letters to the writers. The Scotch dead letters rarely contain coin or any very valuable enclosures, while of articles of jewellery, such as usually form presents or tokens of affection, we are told there is a "lamentable deficiency." The Irish dead letters, on the contrary, "are full of little _cadeaux_ and small sums of money," ill.u.s.trating at the same time both the careless and the affectionate nature of the people.
Letters which can neither be delivered nor returned through the Post-Office are, if found to be valuable and if posted in the United Kingdom, appropriated to the public revenue after a certain time; if received for delivery from a foreign State, they are sent back to the chief office of that country for final disposition. Letters posted in this country found to be of no value, are kept at the Post-Office for a month and then destroyed; foreign letters under the same circ.u.mstances are not destroyed for two months.
And now, unless we at once return from our digression, we shall not be in time to see the great night-mail despatched from St.
Martin"s-le-Grand. Whilst we have been occupied with a contemplation of the few waifs and strays of our national correspondence, the great bulk of that correspondence has been well and carefully disposed of: the letters and newspapers which we saw two hours ago as a ma.s.s of inextricable confusion, are now carefully stowed away in their respective bags, and not a letter or newspaper can be found. The hall clock is silently approaching the hour of eight, when the bags must all be sealed and ready to leave the place. At five minutes before that time, all is still bustle and activity; five minutes perhaps after that hour the establishment is nearly deserted. "Everything is done on military principles to minute time." "The drill and subdivisions of duties are so perfect," adds a close observer, "that the alternations are high pressure and sudden collapse." This is the more remarkable, inasmuch as the Post-Office, is subject to great variations in the amount of work to be done. Particular nights in the week, Mondays and Tuesdays for example, are known as the "heaviest," and even such events as elections, influence the labour to be performed within the same given time. During the last election for Lambeth, 40,000 circulars were posted in London in one day, and properly disposed of. On the 14th of February last, 957,000 extra letters, or valentines, pa.s.sed through the Circulation Office in London. Compared with Valentine"s Day 1863, there was an increase of a quarter of a million letters!
In place of the old mail-coaches waiting in the yard of the office until the work is completed inside, we have now the well-known mail-vans. As they are rapidly supplied with bags, they chase each other to the various railway stations, from which, to all points of the compa.s.s, the night-mails now depart. Half an hour afterwards, we find ourselves in one of these trains watching operations not dissimilar to those we have just left, but much more wonderful, considering how they are accomplished.
THE TRAVELLING POST-OFFICE.
The travelling post-office deserves special attention, not less on account of the interesting nature of the work performed, than because it serves many important ends in the system of which it forms a part. It is to the railway post-offices that the Department is indebted for much of the simplification of its accounts. At different points in a mail-coach journey, long stoppages used to be made in order that the "bye" and "forward" letters might get sorted; on the introduction of railways, it was seen that the number of bags must either be enormously increased, and other complications arise, or the railways could not to any extent be rendered available for post-office purposes. Just at this juncture, it was suggested that the work might be done during the journey, and the obstacles were soon surmounted. Further, by means of the travelling offices, the Post-Office is enabled to offer more time for the posting of letters, and not only so, but to give the public the benefit of earlier deliveries.
The railway-mail service has now a.s.sumed quite gigantic proportions.
Twenty-six years ago, when railways were only partially used for post-office purposes, a writer predicted that they would "soon become the _ne plus ultra_ of rapidity," and that the Post-Office would have to take to them more and more. "In a few years," said the writer, "railways will have become so general, that scarcely a mail-coach will be left in England; certainly, none will be wanted in London." Both predictions have since been verified; for the last twenty years, railways have gradually absorbed all the mail contracts,--year by year the estimates for this service showing a corresponding increase.[155] The first railway post-office journey was made on the Grand Junction Railway, between Liverpool and Birmingham, on the 1st of July, 1837. When the line was completed to London, in January, 1838, the travelling office started from the metropolis. The following curious account of the "Grand Northern Railway Post-Office," as it was called, is culled from the _Penny Magazine_. "On the arrival of the four "accelerators" at the Euston Station with the mails, the railway servants immediately carry the large sacks to a huge looking machine, with a tender attached to it, both at the end of the train. This caravan is the flying Post-Office, with a table for sorting letters, and holes round the walls for their reception." The carriage was certainly either an ungainly structure, or the above is a most ungainly report. "In ten minutes," continues the narrator, "the omnibuses are emptied of their contents, and the train of carriages is then _wound up_ to the station at Camden Town, where the engine is attached, _and the Primrose Hill tunnel soon prevents us hearing the thunder of their rapid progress_." The Londoner of 1864, in these days of metropolitan railways can afford to smile at this last sentence. That the change in the system of mail conveyance wrought immediate and striking improvement at the Post-Office does not admit of question. In a contemporary account, we find an interesting but wonder-stricken writer stating that "by means of the extra railway facilities, letters now pa.s.s along this line (London and Birmingham) in a s.p.a.ce of time so inconceivably quick, that some time must elapse before our ideas become accustomed to such a rapid mode of intercourse."
We learn from different works published by Mr. Charles Knight, that when the railways were extended farther northwards, the Railway Post-Office was extended with them, and was formed into sections. Thus, when the lines were continued north as far as Lancaster, there were two divisions formed, one staff of clerks, &c. to the number of eight, working between London and Birmingham, and ten between Birmingham and Lancaster.[156]
There were two mails each day in both directions. The distance between London and Lancaster (241 miles) was accomplished in eleven hours and a half. The weight of the railway post-office, tender, bags, and clerks, is stated by Mr. Whishaw, in his work on railways, to have been at that period about nine tons. At that time, the expense of the service was regulated by the weight carried. At present, on the great trunk line of the London and North Western Railway Company, no fewer than eight mail-trains run daily up and down, each conveying railway post-office carriages and post-office employes. Half of these trains are run specially, the number of pa.s.sengers being limited. The weight of mails running over this ground must have increased fourfold at the least, inasmuch as the number of officers have been augmented in even a greater proportion. Surprising as was the speed at which the first railway post-office travelled, and wonderful as it was thought at the time, one of the mail-trains now runs nearly double the distance between London and Lancaster during the time which used to be taken for that ground alone. _The Limited night-mail_, travelling between the Euston Square station in London, and Perth in Scotland, accomplishes the distance of 451 miles in eleven hours and a half, or about forty miles an hour including stoppages!
The railway post-office proper, is now extended over nearly every considerable line of railway in the kingdom. It comprises a number of divisions or sections, named generally from the locality through which they extend, or the railway travelled over, as the Bangor and Leeds division, the Caledonian Railway post-office. The four princ.i.p.al or trunk mails, three of them being divided into two sections, are (1) the North-Western Railway post-office, travelling between London and Carlisle; (2) the Irish Mail, between London and Holyhead; (3) the Great Western, between London and Exeter; and (4) the Midland, between Bristol and Newcastle-on-Tyne. Most of these divisions have _day_- as well as _night_-mails running over them daily. Four trains a-day, being two in each direction, are therefore the usual proportion of mails on the chief lines of railway. As London is the _heart_ of the postal system, so these four princ.i.p.al mails may be termed its _main arteries_, while as veins in the great system, there are a number of smaller divisions of the railway post-office that have not been enumerated. Again, at other parts or points not important or extensive enough for travelling offices, railway trains are arranged to wait the arrival of the trunk mails; and thus, to continue the figure, our letters--the life-blood of a nation"s commerce and sociality--are conveyed to the remotest corners of the country.
It may be imagined that a proper control of this vast machinery, extending through almost every county in the kingdom, with its scattered staff of officials, will be difficult; but the efficient working of the whole is nevertheless as thoroughly and promptly maintained as in any other department where personal supervision is more direct. Each divisional part has distinct officers allotted to it, the number of _clerks_ being regulated according to the number of mails running over the division in the course of a day, and the number of _sorters_ according to the amount of sorting duties to be performed. Each mail travels under the charge of one clerk, while each division is locally superintended by one senior clerk. The entire direction, however, of all the travelling officers is vested in the Inspector-General of Mails, who also presides over the Mail Office at St. Martin"s-le-Grand. We may here further state, that the _length_ of the divisions--the extent of one of which forms a post-office journey or "trip"--varies slightly, averaging about 170 miles; the average _time_ taken to perform the journeys being between five and six hours. As a rule, the night-mails travel during the night-time, or between eight P.M. and six A.M.; the day-mails generally speaking throughout the day.
But we must make ready for our journey, and enter more into detail.
While van after van is arriving with its heavy loads of mail-bags, we have time to notice that the train standing at the great London terminus is nearly all post-office. Two or three carriages are being filled as full as possible with made-up bags, and two more, fitted up like post-offices, are simply meant for operations similar to those we have already seen at the General Post-Office, in connexion with the unfinished work which has now to be accomplished during the journey. It is with the remaining carriage only that we have to do. Seen from the outside, the office itself may still answer to the description given of it twenty-five years ago by our authority above adverted to, although considerable improvements must have been made in its construction since that time. Though the structure is built with a very evident serviceable purpose, the large, heavily-painted, windowless vehicle, looks more as if intended for the conveyance of Her Majesty"s horses than Her Majesty"s mails; the roof, however, covered with gla.s.s, with other contrivances for the purposes of ventilation, soon convinces us that it is intended for some description of the _genus h.o.m.o_. We go inside, and find it built like an ordinary saloon carriage, about twenty-two feet long, and as wide and s.p.a.cious as the railway arrangements will allow.
It is night-time, the reader will remember, and the interior looks warm and cheerful with its row of bright-burning moderator lamps, and, in this respect, contrasts strongly and pleasantly, as far as we are concerned, with the dimly-lighted station, through which the cold night air is rushing. The reader who is following us in this description must abstain from imagining anything like luxury in the internal fittings.
Everything here is requisite for accomplishing the work in hand, but there is no provision for any kind of indulgence; and s.p.a.cious as the place seems at a first glance, there is not to be found, when we come to look narrowly, a single foot of spare room. Along the whole length of one side of the carriage, and encroaching materially upon its width, a number of tiers of boxes--the "holes" of our ancient authority--are arranged for the sorting processes; the smaller ones for the letters, and the larger ones in the centre of the office--more like shelves, many of them being movable--for the newspapers and all that vast variety of articles forwarded according to the rules of book-post. Every available inch of s.p.a.ce on the other side of the office is covered with upright pegs, in recesses sunk in the carriage-sides, upon which are hung the bags--now made of canvas, with the names of towns conspicuously painted upon them--to be used in the course of the journey. These recesses, as well as the two ends of the office, are well padded over, to secure additional safety to the officers in the event of any accident.[157]
Under the desks or counters, which run from one end of the carriage to the other, bags are packed, to be given out as the train arrives at the respective stations.
In less time, however, than it would take to read the foregoing, the mail has speeded miles away, and reached, by this time, the fox-covers and game-preserves of those Hertfordshire landowners who, when the railway was projected, expressed the wish that its concoctors "were at rest in Paradise!" The train possibly "thundered" through Camden Town as it used to do in olden times, but it would be but a momentary sensation, not to speak of the inhabitants being now quite accustomed to it. The post-office work commenced when the train left the station. The bags were quickly seized by the proper sorter, cut, and their contents turned out on the desk. Then he distributes what he finds in the bags according to a pre-arranged order. The registered letters which have found their way to the office he at once transfers to the clerk on duty whose special province it is to deal with them; the bundles of ordinary letters--in one of which packets is the identical letter we ourselves posted--he hands over to his fellow-sorters, who, each standing opposite to a distinct set of boxes, labelled with the names of different towns on the route, at once sort them away. The newspapers he deals with himself. The work thus started, the scene presently becomes one of considerable animation and a pleasant-enough sort of excitement, till every bundle of letters is cut open and disposed of in the boxes. There is then a lull, but it is only temporary. It is true that the train will not stop till the county of Warwickshire is reached; but the intervening country is provided for nevertheless--arrangements having been made that at all the towns we pa.s.s the exchange of letter-bags shall be effected by means of machinery whilst the train is progressing at its usual speed. The contrivance in question deserves minute description.[158] The machinery is not worked in the post-office, but in an adjoining van. By means, however, of a substantial iron gangway, the two carriages are connected, so that we can pa.s.s easily from one to the other and see the operation itself. As we do so we are evidently nearing some town, for the sorter is at that moment engaged in peering out of the window into the darkness in search of some familiar object, such as bridge, river, or cl.u.s.ter of trees, by means of which he is enabled to tell his whereabouts with almost mathematical precision. Whilst he is busy finding his position we will take the time to explain, that the machinery is arranged so as to secure, simultaneously in most cases, both the receipt and the despatch of bags. For the purpose of receiving bags, a large strong net is fixed to one side of the van, to be drawn down at the proper moment; and close to the door, on each side of it, securely fixed to the carriage, are hollow iron bars, inside each of which, working by means of a rope and pulley, an iron arm is fixed, upon which the bags to be delivered, securely strapped in a thick, leathern pouch, are suspended. Where the exchange has to be effected at the station we are nearing, the arrangements are just the counterparts of this. A net is spread to catch each pouch from the extended arm of the carriage, and pouches are hung from iron standards in the ground of sufficient height for the net in the train. The operation itself is just commencing. The door is pushed back into the groove in which it works, and then the sorter, touching a spring that holds up the net, it is loosened from its supports, and projects over the carriage-sides; the iron arm, acting on its pulley-rope, is drawn round into the carriage, where the pouch is rapidly fastened to it by means of a catch or spring--but in such a manner that a touch from the net-apparatus at the station will bring it off--and then let down, remaining by virtue of its own weight at right angles to the door. A moment of waiting, and then all the machinery acts its a.s.signed part properly; the pouch disappears from the arm (or arms, if the bags have been heavy enough for two to be used), and at the same moment another descends into the post-office net, and all is over and quiet as before. We mean, of course, comparative quiet, as much as is possible amid the din and endless rattle of a train speeding at the rate of forty miles an hour.
We follow the sorter as he makes his way back into the post-office carriage, carrying with him the treasures we have watched him pick up by the wayside. These new arrivals disposed of in the orthodox way, and the process repeated two or three times, there is suddenly a movement among the officers as they busy themselves in collecting from the different boxes all the letters that have been received from first to last for the bags about to be despatched at the approaching town--the first junction station. The letters in question are examined to test the correctness of the sorting, then tied up in bundles in a sharp and decisive way, then placed away carefully in the several bags, which are tied, sealed, and ready for delivery just as the train is brought to a stand. Here they are given out; fresh supplies are received from a number of large towns in the immediate district, and the train is again on its way. The bags received are at once opened; the same round of sorting, collecting, examining, is gone through; the same process of despatching for the next and all subsequent postal stages is repeated, just as we have described.
Little variation is noticed, except that at certain points a much larger number of bags are thrown into the office--for instance, as the train nears the more thickly populated parts of the midland counties, then the "black country," as it is called, and subsequently the manufacturing districts. At one of these points a considerable addition was made to the staff of sorters, who fell at once to work in the vacant s.p.a.ces left for them. And it was not before they were required; for presently the train arrives at one of the princ.i.p.al mail junctions in the kingdom, where an immense number of bags wait our arrival. These bags have been brought somewhat earlier on, by other mail trains, arranged so as to effect a junction with us; these having in their turn met with other trains running across the country in transverse directions. Thus there are here, bags from towns near and towns remote, containing letters for places from which we are, as yet, hundreds of miles distant. The work, however, will be resumed with increased activity, according to the number of letters which may be forthcoming, only whatever number there may be, all must be finished in a given time.
So far, the reader may imagine the duty to be one of dull routine and very monotonous; so as a rule we believe it is: there are circ.u.mstances connected with the manner of travelling, however, which conspire to make it at times somewhat varied and exceptional. One moment, and we are clattering down a hill, and the sorting partakes, to some extent, of the same tear-away speed; another time, we are panting up a line of steep gradient, and the letters find their boxes very deliberately; now, the rails are somewhat out of order, or the coupling of the carriages has not been well attended to, or we are winding round a succession of sharp curves, and can scarcely keep our feet as the carriage lurches first to one side, then to the other; in all which cases, not only is our own equilibrium a source of difficulty to us, but we see that things proceed anything but smoothly among the letters, which refuse to go in at all, or go in with a spirited evolution, fluttering outside, and then landing at their destination upside down, or in some other way transgressing official rules in such case made and provided. Then the work is accompanied to the different kinds of music, well known to "express travellers." Now the train is tearing away through a tunnel, or through an interminably long cutting of thick-ribbed stone, and then under or over a bridge. Nor is this all, nor the worst: these noises are very frequently varied by what is anything but a lively tune on the engine whistle, but which, supposing the signal lights to be against us, or Cerberus asleep at his post, is too often a round of screeching and screaming enough to waken the Seven Sleepers.
Whatever be the general character of the work, we are bent on enjoyment during this particular journey. The country through which the train is now proceeding is but thinly supplied with towns, hence the number of letters received is much smaller, and we may avail ourselves of the opportunity which this break in the character of the duty gives us, to examine more closely and from our own point of view, a few of the letters which are waiting to be despatched. The sorters also, glad of a little relaxation, have produced from their hiding places under the blue cloth-covered counter, an oval kind of swing-seat attached to it, which turns outside somewhat ingeniously upon a swivel, and seat themselves at their work.
Undoubtedly, the first thing which will strike an observer placed in circ.u.mstances like ours, is, that the Post-Office is eminently a democratic establishment, conducted on the most improved _fraternite et egalite_ principles. The same sort of variety that marks society, here marks its letters; envelopes of all shades and sizes; handwriting of all imaginable kinds, written in all shades of ink, with every description of pen; names the oddest, and names the most ordinary, and patronymics to which no possible exception can be taken. Then to notice the _seals_.
Here is one envelope stamped with the escutcheoned signet of an earl; another where the wax has yielded submissively to the initials of plain John Brown; and yet another, plastered with cobbler"s wax, with an impression that makes no figure in _Burke_ or _Debrett_, but which, indeed, bears many evidences of having been manufactured with hob-nails.
Then to think that Queen Victoria, and John Brown, and the cobbler aforesaid, must each find the inevitable Queen"s head, without which no letter of high or low degree can pa.s.s unquestioned! Here they are--these letters--mingling for a few hours at any rate in silent but common fellowship, tossed about in company, belaboured with the self-same knocks on the head, sent to their destination locked in loving embrace, and sometimes, as in the case of the cobbler"s, exceedingly difficult to part.
If we turn to consider the addresses, how amusing we find some in their ambiguity; how blundering and stupid a few more! Some say too little, others too much; some give the phonetic system with _malice prepense_, others because it is nature"s own rendering and they have never known school! Sometimes (and the practice is growing) the envelope is covered with long advertis.e.m.e.nts, for the benefit and information of the Post-Office officials, we presume, in which case it is difficult to arrive at the proper address of the letter at the first or even second glance. Some give the address of the _sender_ in prominent printed characters, and it is surely not a matter of wonder when the letter, as not unfrequently, happens, finds its way back to the sender. In all cases of this kind, time is of course lost to the Post-Office, and the work of examination is necessarily deliberate, hesitating, and slow. At one point, the quota of letters from the sister-isle is received, and it is then perhaps that the sorter"s patience is put to the severest test.
The addresses of the letters of the poorer Irish are generally so involved--always being sent to the care of one or two individuals--that they usually present the appearance of a little wilderness of words. As a specimen of the kind of letter referred to, we give our readers a copy of one which actually pa.s.sed through the Post-Office some time ago, a.s.suring them that though the following is rather an _ultra_ specimen, this kind of minute but indefinite address is by no means uncommon among the cla.s.s referred to:--
+----------------------------------------------+To my sister Bridget, or else tomy brother Tim Burke, in careof the Praste, who lives in the parishof Balc.u.mbury in Cork, or if not to_some dacent neighbour in Ireland_.+----------------------------------------------+
The English poor oftener, as we have already seen, show their unbounded confidence in the sagacity of the officers of the Post-Office by leaving out some essential part of the address of a letter, but very seldom writing too much. We once saw a letter addressed as follows:--"Mary H----, a tall woman with two children," and giving the name of a large town in the West of England.
The Scotch people, as a rule, attain the golden mean, and exhibit the greatest care in such matters. Nor can we wonder at this. The poorer cla.s.ses are certainly better educated, and whilst seldom profuse on their letters, they are cautious enough not to leave anything of consequence unwritten. The statistics of the Dead Letter Offices of the three countries confirm, to some considerable extent, our rough generalizations.
After all, however, the cases of blunder are exceptional; and as no really blind letters are found in the travelling offices, because no letters are posted here, little difficulty is felt, comparatively speaking, and nothing but patience and the Rosetta stone of experience are needed for the performance of the duty. The great majority of letters are like the great majority of people--ordinary, unexceptionable, and mediocre. It could not well be otherwise. In the railway post-office, however, much is learned from the habit of a.s.sociation. The officers, of course, take some degree of interest in the towns on his ride; for, almost domesticated on the rail, he becomes a sort of denizen of those towns he is constantly pa.s.sing, and sees, or fancies he does, from the letters that arrive from them, a kind of corroboration of all he has settled in his mind with regard to them.
Almost every town has its distinctive kind of letters. That town we just pa.s.sed is manufacturing, and the letters are almost entirely confined to sober-looking advice-cards, circulars, prices current, and invoices, generally very similar in kind and appearance, in good-sized envelopes, with very plainly written or printed addresses. Now and then a lawyer"s letter, written in a painfully distinct hand, or a thick, fat, banker"s letter, groaning under the weight of bills and notes, escapes from company such as we have described; but still the letters sustain the town"s real character. Now we are at an old country town, with quiet-going people, living as their fathers did before them, and inheriting not only their money and lands, but their most cherished principles: their letters are just as we expected, little, quiet, old-fashioned-looking things, remarkable for nothing so much as their fewness. _Now_ we are among the coal-districts, and almost all the letters have a smudged appearance, making you imagine that they must have been written by the light of pit-candles, in some region of carbon "two hundred fathoms down." _This_ bag comes from a sea-bathing place, and so long as summer continues, will unmistakably remind you of sea-sh.o.r.e, sea-sand, and sea-anemones. _These_ bags have previously had to cross a broad sea ferry, and the letters tell of salt water as certainly as if they were so many fishes. Another twenty miles, and we come to an old cathedral town with its letters looking as orthodox as any Convocation could wish; whilst that other town is clearly a resort of fashion, if we may judge from the finely scented, perfumed, elegant-looking billets that escape from its post-bag.
And thus interested and observing, we are rapidly reaching our destination. We are at the terminus at last. The office is emptied of all its contents, and the bags, securely made up, are forwarded under care of other officers in different trains, proceeding far and near. Nor have we forgotten our own letter. In the vast ma.s.s of letters it holds a well-secured place, being safely ensconced in one of these very bags; and we will endeavour to be present when the bag is opened, that we may verify our a.s.sertion. Out of the carriage and once on _terra firma_, we feel a sensation of dreamy wonder that nothing has happened to us; that, considering the noise and the whirl, and the excitement of the work we have witnessed, our brain is not tied up in a knot somewhere in the head, instead of only swimming. Dusty, tired, and sleepy, we hurry through the streets for refreshment, if not repose, while the day is just breaking.
Of course, this Post-Office machinery, which we have attempted to describe, is necessarily delicate and liable to derangements, inasmuch as it has to depend to a great extent on the proper carrying out throughout the country of an infinite number of railway arrangements.