The Post Office and Its Story. Edward Bennett
Maker”—a maker of leather bags for letters—the Stores Department in its early beginnings—and there were three Letter Bringers. One official known as the Ratcatcher received £1 a year for his useful services, another man described as a “Scavenger” received £3, 6s. a year and was in charge of the drainage, which was probably below suspicion.
But perhaps the difference between these times and our own is most directly marked by two entries in the accounts of the period. There were two allowances of £30 each for beer for clerks and sorters, and once a year at least £20 was allowed for a feast for the resident clerks. This was usually held on the King's Birthday, and “the musique-meeting” at the Post Office which Pepys attended may have been one of these feasts. In an old newspaper of 1708 there is an account of one of the feasts, and the text of one of the songs is given. The writer says: “Some of the songs were made up as letters, and the Postboy blowing his horn rode into the Hall to the surprise of all that were present and distributed his letters from Parnassus. Indeed the people might very well be surprised, it being a country where hardly any one could think we held any correspondence. At the same time that the boy sounded his horn, Mr. ——rose up and sung the song.” The author of the particular song, extracts from which we give, was stated to hold “a very genteel place in the General Post Office relating to the Foreign letters, being master of several languages.” Truth, however, compels us to state his salary was only £40 a year. Here are two verses of “A Song Performed at the Post Office Feast on Her Majesty's Birthday 1708. Written by Mr. Motteux, set by Mr. Leveridge:”—
“Room, room for the Post, who with zeal for the Queen
Like Pegasus flies, tho' his scrub is but lean,
Tho' dirty or dusty,
Tho' thirsty yet trusty,
The restless knight-errant,
While Anna's his warrant,
(True knight of the road) of high honours can boast,
The greatest of subjects give way to the post.
Chorus
With a twee-we-we, twee-we-we think it no scorn,
Cits, soldiers, and courtiers give way to the horn.
The secrets we hand, of the fair and the great,
And join, spite of distance, each region and state,
All nations and quarters,
Dutch, Irish, and Tartars,
The bonny North Briton,
And more I can't hit on.
Of all our Queen's subjects none serve her so fast,
For still in her service we're all in post haste.
Chorus
With a twee-we-we, twee we-we, &c.”
In a little book entitled A Picture of London in 1808 I have found the following delightful passage relating to the London Post Office: “It is the most important spot on the surface of the globe. It receives information from the Poles.” This is rather wide of the mark, seeing that both Poles were then undiscovered. The next statement may have been nearer the truth: “It distributes instructions to the Antipodes.” And we seem to get out of our depth farther on: “It is in the highest degree hitherto realised the seat of terrestrial perceptions and volition. It is the brain of the whole earth.” But all this tall language was used for a purpose. The object was to draw attention to a public scandal and to bring before the notice of people the miserable accommodation which the State provided for her wise and brainy servants. For the writer asks us to look on the other side of the picture. “The building is hidden in a narrow alley, misshapen even to deformity, and scarcely accessible to the very mail coaches which collect there for their nightly freights.”
It was indeed the introduction of the mail coach which made the Lombard Street office unsuitable for its purpose. The coaches were obliged to stand in the street itself, and only two or three could be in place at the same time. Various sites were suggested for the new office, and as increased space was the great necessity, it was decided to clear away the rookeries which existed in the liberty of St. Martin's and to build there. The district had deteriorated lamentably since the days of the College of St. Martin's le Grand which stood there for several centuries, and which has an interesting and distinguished history. The district has older associations still, and during the clearing of the sites for the Post Office buildings many interesting remains of the Roman occupation of London were found. In 1818 a very ancient vaulted chamber, built in part of Roman materials, which had been previously concealed beneath the more modern houses, was exposed to view. Sections of the Roman wall have also been discovered, and many other remains, probably of a later date, built out of Roman materials. The College of St. Martin's le Grand possessed the privilege of sanctuary, and this fact may have explained the evil repute of the neighbourhood. It became a rogues' quarter, and great must have been the relief of Londoners when a statute of James I. abolished all privileges of sanctuary. Yet the inhabitants seem to have been able to retain many privileges. They retained their own court for the trial of minor offences: they could keep the place as filthy as they liked until it became a breeding-place for the plague, which regularly broke out at intervals during the seventeenth century, and they appointed their own police or watchmen.
St. Martin's le Grand
A street at St. Martin's le Grand before the clearances were made for the General Post Office. The district originally possessed the privilege of sanctuary, and was, in the early part of the nineteenth century, one of the most disreputable localities in London.
The site was purchased by the City with duties levied on coals brought into London. And the Government obtained the property from the City at a cost of £240,000.
It is amusing to notice, in the report of the Committee which considered the question of the new building, how afraid its members were that in the desire for beauty of style the question of utility would be neglected. Post Office architects have seldom needed this caution. “Ornamental decorations introduced for the mere purpose of embellishment, and unconcerned with utility, while they prodigiously enhance the cost, rarely produce an effect in point of elegance and grandeur which can compensate for it.” And yet again, “an office for the receiving and delivery of letters which should be concealed behind a front fit for a palace, and flanked by triumphal arches, would present an incongruity no less offensive to good taste than inconsistent with rational economy.” Here speaks the voice which in the early years of the nineteenth century produced so many evil results in street architecture.
The architect of the new building was Mr. Smirke, and it is certainly to his credit that he was not unduly influenced by the recommendations of the Committee. The site covered two acres, and the clearance displaced a thousand inhabitants. It swept away numbers of alleys and courts, and when the building itself was opened in 1829 it at once took its place as a great addition to the architectural beauty of the City of London. Everybody who has visited London must be familiar with at least the exterior of the building. It was designed to meet the needs of the mail coach service, yet no sooner was the building opened than the sound of railways began to be heard in the land. But for nearly ten years the mail coaches started from St. Martin's le Grand, and traces of this era can be seen in the drive which goes round the building with an open courtyard at the north end. The Bull and Mouth Yard where the coaches were made up was opposite.
One of the features of the building was a lofty central hall, and through it was a public thoroughfare to Foster Lane. The letters were posted in this hall, and the scene at six o'clock was always one of great animation. Little by little as the needs of the service became different and more pressing, the internal architecture of St. Martin's le Grand was altered almost beyond recognition. The great hall was closed, and the space thrown into the Sorting Office. “No indignity that can possibly be heaped on the poor old thing can add to its disfigurement,” wrote Mr. R. W. Johnston, an admirer of the original building. And he added: “The place has been practically disembowelled,