LIBERALS IN POWER
General Expectation that Fawcett would join the Cabinet—The
Importance of a Fish—Postmaster-General—Queen Victoria
interested—Post Office Problems—Scientific Business Management
anticipated—Women’s Work—A Likeness to Lincoln.
[Sidenote: His Preparation.]
It is doubtful if anything but incessant struggles, the single-handed
upholding of forlorn hopes, the fighting of battles with no other
ammunition than irrefutable fact, and finally, the frequent victory over
overwhelming difficulties, could have fitted Fawcett for the great task
which lay before him. No easier life could have given him the
instinctive grip of the essential, the sympathy which reads men truly,
and the eagerness to serve the least of them which fitted this blind man
to take efficient command of an army of over 90,000 people, to inspire
them with an _esprit de corps_ which they had heretofore lacked, and
incidentally to fill them with a sense of gratitude, loyalty and
affection to their chief. This is what Fawcett did with the Post Office
department of England.
The General Election of 1880 returned the Liberals into power, with
Gladstone once more at their head. Fawcett’s prominence before the
public had grown so steadily and surely, and his attack on the last
Government had been so strong, that he was widely accepted as a probable
member of the new Government.
[Sidenote: The Importance of a Fish.]
He ran down to Cambridge just before he received his appointment. All
who knew him there were on the _qui vive_, eagerly awaiting the good
tidings which they expected any minute. A friend called, in the hope of
gathering news. Fawcett greeted him cordially, and went on to ask, ‘Have
you seen that fish I caught yesterday?’ Characteristic this, to discuss
fish, not politics, at the crisis of his career.
Mr. Gladstone offered the Postmaster-Generalship to Fawcett in April
1880. The following letter was written to his parents the day after:
[Sidenote: Queen Victoria interested.]
‘My dear Father and Mother,—You will I know all be delighted to hear
that last night I received a most kind letter from Gladstone offering
me the Postmaster-Generalship. It is the office which Lord Hartington
held when Gladstone was last in power. I shall be a Privy Councillor,
but shall not have a seat in the Cabinet. I believe there was some
difficulty raised about my having to confide Cabinet secrets;
apparently because of the dependence on others for handling
correspondence. This objection, I think, time will remove. I did not
telegraph to you the appointment at first because Gladstone did not
wish it to be known until it was formally confirmed by the Queen; but
he told me in my interview with him this morning that he was quite
sure that the Queen took a kindly interest in my appointment.’
He adds that Mr. Gladstone said ‘that he has given me the appointment in
order that I might have time to speak in Indian and other debates.’ He
goes on to make some arrangements for fishing at Salisbury.
He had himself feared that his lack of sight might keep him from holding
office, and was not surprised that it debarred him from being in the
Cabinet, but his friends were keenly disappointed. It was generally held
at the time that his blindness was the cause of his exclusion, but it is
noteworthy that Gladstone himself is not reported to have said so.
A contemporary newspaper wrote:
‘No one asked why Mr. Fawcett was a member of the Government, but many
inquired why he was not in the Cabinet. We have reason to believe that
if Mr. Fawcett had been definitely apprised that his blindness was
considered an insuperable barrier in the way of his admission to the
Cabinet, he would have resigned office. He would not have consented to
have been permanently debarred from the free discussion in Parliament of
the questions in which he was intensely interested, and to which he
brought a greater capacity of judgment than three-fourths of the members
of any Cabinet England has ever seen. The opinions he could not express
in council, he would have resumed the right of expressing in
Parliamentary debate. It is a matter of regret that a barrier of weak
prejudice should have excluded a man who had overcome so many real, and
seemingly insuperable, barriers.’
It was argued that a member of the Cabinet has to see many confidential
papers, and that there would be difficulty in admitting some one who, in
order to read them, would have to use other eyes than his own. This
explanation seems hardly sufficient. Six months later, Lord Hartington
offered Fawcett a seat on the Indian Council, where confidential
documents would also have to be scrutinised. The English Cabinet, even
in its methods of procedure, is so secret, that it is impossible to
dogmatise on the subject. But for that very reason, it seems the more
plausible that difficulties such as those due to Fawcett’s blindness
could have been met and overcome. Fawcett’s exclusion from the Cabinet
may as much have been due to his uncompromising individuality as to his
physical infirmity. It is to be remembered that Cabinet forming is
difficult work, and a Prime Minister has to think of the claims and
capacities of many candidates, and of how they will pull together.
Furthermore, the principle that a man should serve in a subordinate
office first, before being asked to join the Cabinet, was a favourite
one with Gladstone.
[Illustration:
FAWCETT’s SIGNATURE AND SEAL AS POSTMASTER GENERAL OF ENGLAND
The impression of the seal was taken from the actual seal used by
Fawcett; but, at the time of King Edward’s accession, when the
expression “Her Majesty’s” became incorrect, the word “his” was
cut on the seal in substitution to the word “her”]
The reader must draw his own conclusions as to these high matters of
State. The only reference Fawcett is known to have made is in the letter
to his father already quoted.
In a previous administration Gladstone had had reason to know that the
financial work of a Postmaster-General is complex and full of intricate
detail. In his choice of Fawcett for this post he showed his respect for
the economist's financial ability. This respect was mutual: Fawcett in
one of his letters speaks of 'the pleasure of doing business with a
Master of the Art.'
On the spring day when Fawcett made his first call at the busy Post
Office, he was warmly received by his predecessor and political
opponent, Lord John Manners, and introduced by him to the leading
officials.
[Sidenote: An Official Welcome.]
[Sidenote: Hand-shaking.]
At a more formal reception to Fawcett, 'all the officials at the General
Post Office' were mustered to be individually introduced to him,
beginning with the heads of departments, with each of whom he shook
hands. These were followed by officials next in rank. To the first of
these Fawcett was about to hold out his hand, when the hint was
whispered to him, 'It is not usual for Her Majesty's Postmaster-General
to shake hands with any one in the office below the rank of head of a
department.' 'I suppose,' rejoined Fawcett, 'that I am at liberty to
make what use I like of my own hand,' and he went on shaking hands with
every one who was presented to him.
There is a report that this democratic handshaking proclivity was shown
also in the opposite direction socially. At some function when Royalty
was present, Fawcett was sent for by the Queen. It was his first
interview with her, and unlike a seeing man he had no chance to observe
the customary etiquette in these matters. So he advanced cheerily,
heartily grasped Her Majesty’s hand and spoke of his pleasure in
greeting her.
Queen Victoria always knew how to overlook an unintentional breach of
etiquette, and fascinated, as so many were, by Fawcett’s friendliness,
chatted gaily and unceremoniously with him, while the court looked on,
much amused and somewhat astounded.
[Sidenote: A great Opening of Service.]
To understand Fawcett’s methods and the manner in which he took up his
new work, it is essential to get his estimate of its scope, and of his
relation to it as its director. His attitude was very simple. He was the
servant of the people—an engine to lift their loads and to help them to
help themselves to fuller, happier lives. He regarded the Post Office
neither as an end in itself, nor as a money-making machine for the
Government, but as an instrument which could be made of service,
especially to the poor.
First, he wished to give the machine a _soul_ and a heart: the thought
of such things in the Post Office seems comic, but in Fawcett’s time
this miracle was accomplished. Its whole system was waked up, shaken
from its lethargy, and flooded with a new interest, and that unusual
_esprit de corps_ which has been mentioned, was aroused among the
employees, and alone made possible the results which he achieved.
As usual, far ahead of his time, he grasped the chief principles of
scientific business management—that recent art which has claimed so much
attention from the great capitalists and the directors of huge
enterprises, especially in America. Without labelling his principles
with high-sounding names, he carried them out, insisting on economy,
both of work and fatigue, which produced contentment, increased interest
and zeal among the employees; hence greater efficiency.
His method was, first, to diminish fatigue, perhaps the most wasteful
factor in quasi-efficient business. Working and sanitary conditions were
improved, and the staff of Post Office doctors was augmented. He noticed
the failure in health, however slight, of those officers with whom he
came in contact, and at once suggested that they should recruit
themselves by leave of absence. Thus he raised the standard of physique
among his workers. He tried to adjust the work to each individual. This
seems impossible in so vast an enterprise, but by the tremendous amount
of investigation which he made himself, and by seeing his humble
employees as well as heads of departments, Fawcett brought this about to
an astonishing degree. The threat of a strike among the telegraphists
soon after he assumed office gave him an early opportunity to prove
this. Fawcett investigated their grievances with much personal inquiry,
and, by a re-classification of the employees, satisfactorily met their
complaints.
Before long he had won the loyal adherence of the officials of his
department, and it is delightful to see how highly he esteemed them and
their integrity and industry. He was careful to give credit to the work
of his subordinates, and to obtain for them any marks of approval or
honorary distinctions that were their due. He would add to his own
labours rather than cause a subordinate to be late for luncheon or lose
a train home.
At that time the selection of women for Post Office work was not by open
competition, but the applications were submitted to the
Postmaster-General. Fawcett took much trouble about these, and would not
allow himself to be affected by the influential backing of an applicant,
but tried, other things being equal, to give the position to the one who
needed it most.
The following interesting anecdote is told by Fawcett’s old friend, Sir
William Lee Warner: ‘I remember on one occasion I passed him in the
street in London, and he asked me to walk with him. First he asked me
whether by chance any half-sovereigns had got into the pocket in which
he kept sixpences. Then he wished to visit a certain Post Office, and as
we went he would tell me his impressions of the names of the streets
down which we passed, and ask me to correct him. His memory was
wonderfully good, and even his sense of distances. “We must now be near
such a post office,” he said, and he was nearly always right. We entered
it and I took him to the counter. “Is Miss B. here?” he asked. “No, but
she will be back directly,” was the reply. Then ensued a scene which
impressed me with the inconvenience of blindness. Having ascertained
that Miss B. was before him, he told her that he had received her
application for promotion, and proceeded to discuss the matter with her.
The applicant blushed greatly—her neighbours, and possibly her rivals,
pressed forward to hear, and perhaps resent her application. The poor
creature looked the more uncomfortable as the Postmaster-General became
the more considerate and promised to give his best attention to her
request.’
[Sidenote: Help for Women.]
Keen for any efficient service obtainable, he welcomed what able
assistance women could offer. He largely extended the employment of
women workers in the Post Office. This has proved so successful that the
number of women in the various branches of the Post Office has steadily
increased, and is now very large. Fawcett was wont to say that he
considered the head of the women’s staff of the Savings Bank one of the
ablest officials in the whole postal service.
Mrs. Garrett Anderson, his sister-in-law, was deeply interested in his
work for the women in the Post Office, and especially in his efforts to
have them labour under healthful conditions. She was a distinguished
doctor, and in 1882 Fawcett, after consultation with her, appointed a
woman doctor to look after the women in the London post office. He also,
with excellent results, appointed women doctors at Liverpool and
Manchester. Under the improved conditions for health and of health, the
women’s work was eminently satisfactory, and at the time of his death
there were two thousand nine hundred and nineteen employed in the
department.
He noted that difficulties occurred when, as was then customary, on the
marriage of a postmistress her appointment was given to her husband.
When he was not the right person for the new place, this led to trouble;
in 1882 the passage of the Married Woman’s Property Act enabled him to
decide that a woman should in every case have the option of retaining
the appointment in her own name. This arrangement was confirmed by Lord
Eversley, who succeeded Fawcett at the Post Office.
Fawcett went personally into many complaints against petty officials.
Unless fully convinced, he was righteously unwilling to dismiss a man,
and so often leave him with a stigma for life. Losses of letters having
occurred in a local post office, a watch was set, and suspicion fell on
a clerk who had been caught using telegrams for racing and betting. As a
preliminary measure, the clerk was removed to another office for a
month, and the irregularities immediately ceased; he was then sent back,
and at once they began again. What could be a clearer case? He must be
dismissed at once. ‘Give him another chance,’ said Fawcett. ‘He has
admitted his gambling. Had he denied it I should have been convinced he
was guilty of thefts.’ Certain tests, usual in the Post Office service,
were applied, and the result proved conclusively that the culprit was a
guard on the railway, who had been astute enough to forgo taking the
letters during the absence of the suspected clerk, and who began again
when the man returned. ‘There, you see,’ said Fawcett, ‘by a little
extra care I saved a foolish young man from the absolute ruin of
character which his dismissal from the Post Office would have caused.’
Again we are reminded of his likeness to that other great, tall,
contemporary champion of justice, who, across the Atlantic, had given
his life to serve the oppressed and the debased. Lincoln’s critics were
always reproaching him for his excessive leniency and clemency; he would
never let a shadow fall on the life of an unfortunate if he could help
it. He forgot to sign the death warrant for a scared boy who had run
away when his officer told him to face his first mad sight of battle;
and he meekly granted a widowed mother a pardon for her renegade son. So
Fawcett, in his peaceful rôle of directing the Post Office, hated and
hesitated to confirm an order for dismissing a subordinate. His critics
say that occasionally he pushed clemency to weakness, and that he was
‘unwilling to enforce punishments really called for in the interests of
the necessary discipline.’ More than a quarter of a century has passed
since this was said, and with the definition of bad (as good out of
place) we have come to question the use of so-called punishments.
Perhaps Fawcett and Lincoln, in trying not to inflict them, because of
their dislike to give pain, were in this respect also far ahead of their
time, and, by their intuitive hate of doing an injury to any one, were
anticipating the wisest policy of to-day, which seeks by scientific
adjustment and inspiration to do away with so crude a thing as
punishment. The future will judge of this, but we can appreciate the
righteous fear such men had of unjustly interfering with personal
rights, or trying to make a stereotyped formula fit an erring human
being.
When differences of opinion occurred, Fawcett would discuss the question
with his subordinates to an ‘almost wearisome length’ because he
disliked unnecessarily to thrust their opinions aside. He often said
that as he could not see himself, he had an earnest wish to see things
as much as possible from the point of view of others. By bringing home
his personality to the great mass of Post Office servants, and by
calling the attention of the public to the value of the work done by the
permanent staff, he raised the tone of the whole service, enhanced their
self-respect, and increased the estimation in which they are held by the
public.
[Sidenote: Esprit de Corps.]
The employee who had fallen under the spell of his new chief’s
enthusiasm and kindliness felt, no matter how humble a niche he
occupied, that he was doing part of the good work of a great country,
and forgot that he was, perhaps, a poorly paid clerk in a God-forsaken
hamlet. His efforts would be redoubled; the golden chain of service
linked all the little outlying posts with the great ones, bound even the
little half-frozen postmistress in the bleakest settlement of the empire
to help on the work of the jovial, warm-hearted chief in the brilliant
city of London.