Foot-prints of a letter carrier; or, a history of the world's correspondece

Part 11

Chapter 113,947 wordsPublic domain

One of the strongest tests by which the progressive prosperity of a country may be ascertained is that of its postal department. It forms a chain which links together all private and public interests; it links state to state, countries to countries, nations to nations. It is the alphabet of the world!

Benjamin Franklin appointed Richard Bache, his son-in-law, deputy postmaster. They established mail-riders to carry the mails, and stationed them at distances of twenty-five miles, to deliver from one to the other and return to their starting-places: they travelled night and day, and were men selected for their honesty and sobriety.

At the same time it was ordered that three advice-boats should be established, “one to ply between North Carolina and such ports as shall be most convenient to the place where Congress shall be sitting,” one other between the State of Georgia and the same port. The boats to be armed, and to be freighted by individuals for the sake of diminishing the public expense.

The state of the country was such that it became necessary to enlist the services of the most prominent men in its cause, both at home and abroad; and who so popular then as Benjamin Franklin? A writer speaking of him and the period says, “With a fame unequalled in brilliancy by that of any other man of those times, not only as a philosopher and sage, but as a profound political thinker, and an undaunted asserter of the rights and liberties of his country, Franklin’s name was now familiarly known and revered throughout all Europe.”

Is it to be wondered at, therefore, that he should have been appointed one of the commissioners to France? The commissioners first appointed for this purpose, on the 26th of September, 1776, were Franklin, Silas Dean, and Thomas Jefferson. The last, however, declined, and Arthur Lee, of Virginia, was put in his place. Mr. Lee and Mr. Dean were both in Europe, the former having been employed several years in England as a colonial agent, and the latter having been sent out in the preceding March by the committee of secret correspondence, with a view to diplomatic as well as commercial objects; and Franklin, after a boisterous voyage in the United States sloop-of-war _Reprisal_, Captain Wickes, and after escaping from the guns of several British cruisers, met them in Paris in the latter part of December, 1776. This portion of history is familiar to all.

In the absence of Franklin, Richard Bache attended to the post-office business, and in all respects carried out his father-in-law’s plans.

In March, 1777, Franklin received from Congress a commission as minister to Spain.

After residing in Europe nearly nine years, acting in the capacities named, he returned to America, and arrived in Philadelphia on the 14th of September, 1785. His return was greeted with every mark of personal regard and public respect.

We will close this portion of our postal history, and Franklin’s connection with it, by the following letter, which he wrote to Mr. Thomson shortly after his return home. It is to be regretted that it is a _finale_ which reflects but little credit on our government at that time, and gives occasion for our opponents to repeat the old saying that “republics are ungrateful.” Nor is Franklin’s case an isolated one.

Franklin, speaking of unrequited services to his friend, says,—

“I see by the minutes,” speaking of Congress, “that they have allowed Mr. Lee handsomely for his services in England before his appointment to France, in which services I and Mr. Bollan co-operated with him, and have had no such allowance, and since his return he has been very properly rewarded with a good place, as well as my friend Mr. Jay,—though these are trifling compensations in comparison with what was granted by the king to Mr. Gerard on his return to America. But how different is what happened to me! On my return from England, in 1775, the Congress bestowed on me the office of postmaster-general, for which I was very thankful. It was, indeed, an office I had some kind of right to, as having previously greatly enlarged the revenue of the post by the regulations I had contrived and established while I possessed it under the crown. When I was sent to France, I left it in the hands of my son-in-law, who was to act as my deputy. But soon after my departure it was taken from him and given to Mr. Hazzard. When the English ministry thought fit to deprive me of the office (that of postmaster), they left me, however, the privilege of receiving and sending my letters free of postage, which is the usage when a postmaster is not displaced for misconduct in the office; but in America I have ever since had the postage demanded of me, which since my return from France has amounted to about fifty pounds, much of it occasioned by my having acted as minister there.”

There are so many incidents connected with Benjamin Franklin—incidents associated alike with our country’s history, its literature, art, and science—that we are not at all surprised at the many editions and variety of style of works written expressly to connect his name with them. We annex a pleasing little sketch of some of the early scenes of his life, from notes furnished by Thomas J. Wharton, Esq., to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, in 1830:—

“The year 1719 deserves particular remembrance in the annals of Pennsylvania, as that in which the first newspaper was printed in the State. These potent engines exercise so vast an influence for good or evil over men’s minds and actions in the present age, that a particular history of their rise and progress would be no idle or unprofitable task, though out of place here. The first number of the ‘American Weekly Mercury,’ as it was called, appeared on the 22d of December, 1719, on a half-sheet of the quarto size, and purported to be printed ‘by Andrew Bradford at _the_ Second Street,’ and to be sold by him and by John Copson in Market Street. The price was ten shillings per annum; and this was quite as much as it deserved. Extracts from foreign journals generally about six months old, and two or three badly-printed advertisements, formed the substance of the journal. The office of the editor was a sinecure,—at least his _pen_ seems to have been seldom employed, and little information can be derived from the journal concerning the existing condition of Philadelphia. Occasionally a bill of mortality tells us that one adult and one child died during a certain week, and even that is beyond the usual number; for some weeks appear to have passed without a single death. From the following advertisement, which appears in No. 17, something of the customs and state of things at the period may be gathered:—‘These are to give notice that Matthew Cowley, a skinner by trade, is removed from Chestnut Street to dwell in Walnut Street, _near the Bridge_, where all persons may have their buck and doeskins dressed, &c.’ ‘He also can furnish _you_ with bindings, &c.’ What new ideas of Walnut Street does not this hint about a _bridge_ give us! and how plenty must deer have been in those times, when _all persons_ are invited to have their skins dressed by Matthew Cowley! And then what a familiar and village-sort of acquaintance with everybody does not the transition at the end, from the third to the second person plural, imply! ‘He also can furnish you with bindings, &c.’

“Nine years after the appearance of the American Mercury, the Philadelphia press was delivered of a second newspaper, to which the modest title was given of ‘The Universal Instructor of all Arts and Sciences, and Pennsylvania Gazette.’ In his inimitable autobiography Franklin has immortalized Keimer, the eccentric publisher of this journal, whose vanity and selfishness, whose wild notions upon religion and morals, and whose turn for poetry and gluttony are so happily and graphically delineated. Franklin, from whom Keimer had stolen the idea of a second newspaper, attacked it in a series of papers published in Bradford’s journal and called The Busy-Body.[34] The ‘Universal Instructor’ soon fell into decay, and then into Franklin’s hands, by whom it was very skilfully managed, both for his own profit and for the interest and edification of the public. An editorial notice in one of Franklin’s papers proves, in rather a ludicrous way, how badly Philadelphia was supplied at the time (1736) with printing-presses. What was called the _outer form_ was printed reversely or upside down to the inner form, and the following apology is offered:—‘The printer hopes the irregular publication of this paper will be excused a few times by his town readers, in consideration of his being at Burlington with the press, laboring for the public good to make money more plentiful.’

“It is not generally known that this venerable journal survived till within a year or two of the present time, under the name of ‘The Pennsylvania Gazette.’ The third newspaper published in Pennsylvania was ‘The Pennsylvania Journal and Weekly Advertiser,’ the first number of which appeared on the 2d of December, 1742; and several other journals shortly afterwards arose, with various success. In 1760 five newspapers were published in the State, all weekly,—three of them printed in the city, one in Germantown, and one in Lancaster. In 1810 the number had increased to sixty-six, of which thirteen were published in Philadelphia; and in 1824 an official return to the postmaster-general stated the number at one hundred and ten, of which eighteen were published in Philadelphia, eleven of them daily: a prodigious increase, which argues that the appetite for this food has increased in full proportion with the population. It is perhaps worth adding that the first _daily_ newspaper that appeared on the continent of America was published in Philadelphia.

“There are few persons on record to whose individual genius and exertions a community has owed so much as to Dr. Franklin. If William Penn was the political founder of the province, Franklin may perhaps be denominated the architect of its literature, the gifted author of many of its best institutions, and the father of some of the finest features of our character. It is seldom, however, that Providence has vouchsafed such a length of years to such an intellect, and still more seldom that such events occur as those which developed the powers and capacities of Franklin’s mind. The name of this illustrious man is closely connected with the literary history of Pennsylvania; but his life and actions are too well known to require that any elaborate notice of them should be given here. Referring, therefore, to his own invaluable memoirs for the events of his personal and political history, I shall content myself with a short sketch of the principal features of his literary career. The year 1723 was that in which Franklin first set his foot in Philadelphia. As he landed on Market Street wharf, and walked up that street, an obscure and almost penniless boy, devouring a roll of bread, and ignorant where he could find a lodging for the night, little could he or any one who then saw him anticipate that later advent, when, sixty years afterwards, he landed upon the same wharf, amid the acclamations of thousands of spectators, on his return from an embassy in which he had dictated to his former king the terms of peace for the confederated republics, of one of which he was placed at the head, and not merely distinguished as a politician, but covered with literary honors and distinctions from every country in Christendom by which genius and public virtue were held in estimation. And yet the change was scarcely greater for Franklin than for Philadelphia. The petty provincial village, with its scattered houses dotted over the bank of the Delaware, had become a magnificent metropolis, distinguished for the wisdom and liberality of its institutions, and as the seat of a general and republican government, which at the former period could scarcely have entered into his dreams.

“At the time of Franklin’s arrival in Philadelphia there were two printing-offices in operation. Keimer, the proprietor of one of them, had but one press and a few worn-out types, with which, when Franklin visited him, he was composing an elegy, literally of his own _composition_, for it had never gone through the usual process in this manufacture, of pen and ink, but flowed at once from his brain to the press. The subject of these typographical stanzas was _Aquila Rose_, an apprentice in the office, whose surname naturally suggested to the mind of Keimer some touching figures. If we may judge from some specimens of his poetry which Thomas has preserved in his History of Printing, the province lost little by Keimer’s emigration to Bermuda, which took place shortly afterwards.”

Perhaps, if we except his scientific and political labors,—labors which won him a name while living and honored when dead,—there was no other department wherein business and tact were so united to effect a great national reform as in that of the post-office.

And yet historians pass over that portion of his life with a mere dash of the pen, and seem to consider it a dry episode in his otherwise eventful career. Had they gone into the history of this connection, the business of the postal department would have loomed up before them a splendid subject to descant upon. It would have shown them how out of chaos came forth, under Franklin’s control, a form perfect in shape and gigantic in its proportions. It would tower a giant above the many lesser subjects he wrote pages upon, and give to the world a leaf in our book on political economy which is now—at least as far as this department is concerned—a blank page.

Benjamin Franklin, at the head of the postal department under the colonial government, was the great pioneer in the cause of _letters_: he mapped the length and breadth of their extent; brought distant places together by the speed of horses, as he did in after-years by electric power the lightning from the surcharged clouds to our very feet.

And when at the head of the department, under the _States united_ forming a Union that has made us a nation among nations, to be honored, respected, and _feared_, he carried out his plans, based upon a principle that has governed the operations of the postal department to this day.

Franklin died April 17, 1790. In his will, dated July 17, 1788, he simply expressed his wish to have his body buried with as little expense or ceremony as might be. But in the codicil, dated June 23, 1789, but a few months before his death, we find this clause:—

“I wish to be buried by the side of my wife, if it may be, and that a marble stone, to be made by Chambers, six feet long, four feet wide, plain, with only a small moulding round the upper ledge, and this inscription:—

+----------------------------------------+ │ BENJAMIN } │ │ AND } FRANKLIN. │ │ DEBORAH } │ │ 178-. │ +----------------------------------------+

to be placed over us both.”

In the graveyard belonging to Christ Church in this city, situated at the southeast corner of Arch and Fifth Streets, this plain slab, with the above inscription, is still to be seen.

The man to whose memory it is dedicated, in immediate expectation of death (as is shown by the fact that the codicil was made in June, 1789, and the figures 178- are so arranged by him that unless he died in that very year they would be useless), had calmly and deliberately selected the spot where he wished his corpse to repose. There rest the remains of one whose name, though simply recorded on a piece of marble, lives in memory while reason holds its throne in the immortal mind.

There is in the simple gray stone which now covers the breasts of “Benjamin Franklin and Deborah his wife” more attraction and genuine respectability than could be found in the loftiest pillar ever reared to gratify mere ambition.

“Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honor’s voice provoke the silent dust, Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death?”

Richard Bache had acted as postmaster up to 1776, when he was succeeded by Ebenezer Hazard. Hazard’s name is better known as an editor than as a postmaster, as he subsequently compiled the valuable historical collections bearing his name. He held the office of postmaster until the inauguration of President Washington’s administration. The succession of postmaster-generals since the adoption of the Federal Constitution will be given in its proper place.

X.

Reminiscences.

_MAD ANTHONY WAYNE AND JEMMY THE ROVER._

In the year 1776 authority was given to employ extra post-riders between the armies from the head-quarters to Philadelphia. These post-riders ran many risks, as refugees were not rare at that day: hence the danger was materially increased in consequence. The letters of General Wayne were interrupted, as were those of others, and the utmost caution was necessary for the purpose of securing a safe conveyance. Various plans were adopted, and the postmaster was active in establishing a postal communication with the armies. There was another mode, however, which was even more successful, but equally dangerous to the parties engaged: this was the spy system. Much valuable information was conveyed to the commanders of the armies by it, which could not have reached them through the regular post. In one of General Wayne’s letters, addressed to his family in 1781, he makes allusion to one “Jemmy the Rover,” whom he had employed as a spy. While our army was encamped at Valley Forge, Jemmy was repeatedly sent within the British lines, and always returned with correct and important information. With him originated the appellation of “Mad Anthony” as applied to the general. “Jemmy the Rover” was an Irishman by birth, and was a regularly-enlisted soldier in the Pennsylvania line. The real name of Jemmy is not known. He was subject to, or at least feigned, occasional fits of craziness, in which state he often proved very noisy and troublesome, and in one instance was ordered to the guard-house. Whilst the sergeant with a file of men was conducting him thither, Jemmy suddenly halted, and asked the sergeant by whose orders he was arrested. “By those of the general,” was the reply. “Then forward!” said the Rover. In the course of a few hours he was released. In the act of taking his departure, he asked the sergeant whether Anthony (this being the only name he gave General Wayne) was mad or in fun when he placed him under arrest. The answer was, “The general has been much displeased with your disorderly conduct, and a repetition of it will be followed not only by confinement, but by _twenty-nine_ well laid on.” “Then,” exclaimed Jemmy, “Anthony is mad: farewell to you; clear the coast for the commodore, Mad Anthony’s friend!” He suddenly disappeared from the camp. In a postscript to a letter General Wayne wrote to his family, he says, “Jemmy the Rover, _alias_ the commodore, has absented himself from this detachment of the army. Should he in his rambles pass your way, I hope that you will extend towards him every hospitality which may be most likely to minister to his comfort. I am convinced that, whether in his hours of sanity or insanity, he would cheerfully lay down his life for either me or any of my family.”

It is said by some who knew Jemmy that he was a man of good education and extraordinary shrewdness: in fact, it was much doubted whether or not Jemmy feigned derangement.

As every thing having any connection with the events of 1776, which led to our independence, must be of interest, it may not be out of place here to introduce the following remarkable prophecy, made in the eighth century by Merlin, the celebrated Welsh astrologer. Its fulfilment in almost every particular renders it the more interesting, as evidenced in the American Revolution, to which reference seems to have been made. Had this prophecy been published subsequent to the Revolution, its authenticity might have been doubted, or at least questioned. But it is copied from Hawkins’s work, published in the year 1530.

In connection with the prophecy, we also give the key, furnished by an old citizen of Philadelphia to the editors of the “Columbian Magazine,” published in this city, in the March number, 1787:—

“_SIBYLLINE ORACLE._

“Uttered by Merlin, some time during the eighth century, in Wales, of which he was a native.

I.

“When the savage is meek and mild, The frantic mother shall stab her child.

II.

“When the Cock shall woo the Dove, The mother the child shall cease to love.

III.

“When men, like moles, work under ground, The _Lion_ a _Virgin_ true shall wound.

IV.

“When the _Dove_ and _Cock_ the _Lion_ shall fight, The _Lion_ shall crouch beneath their might.

V.

“When the _Cock_ shall guard the _Eagle’s_ nest, The _Stars_ shall rise _all in the west_.

VI.

“When _ships_ above the clouds shall sail, The _Lion’s _ strength shall surely fail.

VII.

“When _Neptune’s_ back with _stripes_ is _red_, The sickly _Lion_ shall hide his head.

VIII.

“When _seven_ and _six_ shall make but _one_, The _Lion’s _ might shall be undone.”

_Verse 1._—The settlement of America by a civilized nation is very clearly alluded to in the first line. The frantic mother is Britain. America still feels the wounds she has received from her.

_Verse 2._—The Cock is France, the Dove is America, Columbia; their union is the epocha when America shall cease to love Britain.

_Verse 3._—In many parts of Europe there are subterranean works carried on by persons who never see the light of day. But perhaps the solution may more particularly be referred to the siege of York, in Virginia, where the approaches were carried on by working in the earth. In the second line there is another equivoque. We are told by Mr. Addison, in his “Spectator,” that a lion will not hurt a true maid. This, at first view, seems to be contradicted by the prophecy; but, on examination, the epocha referred to, the virgin, Columbia (or, perhaps, _Virginia_, by which name all North America was called in the days of Queen Elizabeth), shall wound the _lion_,—that is, _Britain_,—which shows the precise time when the oracle should be accomplished.

_Verse 4_ clearly alludes to the successes of the united forces of America and France against those of Britain.

_Verse 5._—For the solution of this oracle, as well as all the rest, we are indebted to the engraving of the _arms_ of the _United States_ in the “Columbian Magazine” for September, 1786. America is clearly designated by the eagle’s nest, as it is the only part of the globe where the _bald eagle_ (the arms of the United States) is to be found. Thus, this hitherto inexplicable prophecy may now be easily understood as meaning that when the _cock_—that is, France—shall protect America (as she did during the late war), the stars—that is, the standard of the American empire—shall rise in this western hemisphere.

_Verse 6._—It is very remarkable that the first discovery of the amazing properties of inflammable air, by means of which men have been able to explore a region till then impervious to them, happened in the same year when _Britain’s_ strength was so reduced as to oblige her to acknowledge the independence of America. The _boats_ in which the adventurous aeronauts traversed the upper regions are the _ships_ here referred to.

Thus far the prophecy seems to have been already fully and literally accomplished: it is to be hoped that the accomplishment of those which remain is not far remote.