entrusted to some idle boy without character, mounted on a worn-out hack, and who, so far from being able to defend himself, or escape from a robber, is much more likely to be in league with him.' The boys rode about three and a half miles an hour, and carried immense quantities of unposted letters. Pitt utilized the coaches in 1784. In that year the postal revenue was £196,000, and in 1805 it had risen to £944,000. With the means of sure, regular transmission, correspondence rapidity developed. Above all, letters were safe. The guard's blunderbuss, so much laughed at nowadays, must have been a deadly weapon at close quarters; and when Jerry Cruncher stopped the Dover coach, he knew what would happen if he indulged in any suspicious movement.[1]
Coaches were also introduced into Scotland, but the tracks were so bad that the horses could only crawl at a snail's pace to their destinations.
In Ireland the roads were still worse; but in 1815 Bianconi introduced his stoutly-built mail-cars in that country, and Thackeray has portrayed himself (paying particular attention to a fair colleen), on one of these vehicles; which are still, I believe, running in some districts.
We come to the greatest name in postal history—Rowland Hill. This illustrious reformer was a born mathematician, with a genius for organization, energetic, indefatigable, and resourceful. He was 'ever a fighter,' and a good hater, as is shown by his remark that there was one thing might be said for the Revolution of 1848, namely, that it had removed M. Dubost, an opponent of postal reform.
In 1887 about 96,000,000 letters were exchanged by the 25,600,000 inhabitants of the United Kingdom, or four per head, as against sixty-one per head in 1904. There were forty rates for inland letters. The charge rose from 2d. for eight miles to 4d. for fifteen, and then by irregular gradation to 1s. for 800 miles, and 1d.
- ↑ See the 'Tale of Two Cities.'
