Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

Inside, it was surprisingly silent. The good ordering of public correspondence was evidently carried out very quietly indeed. Clerks with bundles of letters and packets emerged from one door and disappeared without a word through another. Thomas wondered fleetingly if Post Office staff were obliged to take a vow of silence.

Bishop led them down a short passage and opened a door into his rooms at the end of it. ‘Come in, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘My servant will bring us refreshment.’

When they were settled, Williamson took charge. This time he did not bother to hide his lazy eye. ‘Thomas,’ he said – it was the first time that he had used Thomas’s given name – ‘I am grateful to you for agreeing to come here. I know you would rather be elsewhere.’ He smiled thinly. ‘While you are here, please treat me as your primary point of contact, although of course Henry will always be available if necessary.’ He glanced at Bishop, who politely inclined his head. ‘Henry is responsible for everything that goes on in this building and at the Foreign Letter Office in Love Lane and for the safe delivery of all mail at home and overseas. He will explain how the Post Office is organized.’

Williamson studied his Madeira before continuing. ‘As you know, I am employed by the king to gather intelligence pertaining to national security and as such often have occasion to work closely with Henry. Correspondence to and from our agents overseas is usually encrypted. You will be responsible for its encryption and decryption. In addition, intercepted correspondence, particularly to and from overseas addresses, is a fruitful source of information. Some of it is encrypted. The decrypting was carried out by John Wallis and will also now be your responsibility.’ So far, everything was as Williamson had told him. Thomas said nothing.

‘Henry has arranged for you to meet Sir Samuel Morland. Do you know him?’ Thomas did not. ‘Morland, as we did, once served Cromwell. He’s a brilliant man – a fellow of Magdalene College, Cambridge, inventor, cryptographer and a distinguished linguist – but not easy to work with. To put it plainly, he’s bombastic and rude.’

Thomas risked an interruption. ‘If Sir Samuel Morland is as you describe him, he will be less than enthusiastic about my arrival, will he not?’

‘Indeed. That is why we have asked him to carry out a special commission – the development of a new family of ciphers – while you deal with the day-to-day work.’

‘Is he more enthusiastic about that?’

‘Not very. He believes himself capable of both jobs. However, I think we have reached an accommodation.’

‘It would perhaps be best if I did not do my work here.’

‘I have thought of that. A room for you to work in has been prepared at my house. You will have everything you need. I suggest you call as a matter of course twice each week – shall we say Tuesdays and Fridays at ten o’clock – and I will send for you if anything urgent comes to hand in between visits. Would that be convenient?’

‘It would.’

‘Good. In that case, Henry will describe the organization of the Post Office while I drink his Madeira and then you will meet Morland.’

‘I have also arranged for Lemuel Squire to join us,’ said Bishop. ‘I thought Thomas should meet him too.’

The name meant nothing to Thomas. ‘Lemuel Squire?’

‘Squire is responsible for the opening, copying and resealing of intercepted letters,’ explained Bishop, ‘and now that we use my mark, he has to work fast. All letters are stamped when they arrive. If their delivery is too long delayed, there are complaints. Squire and Morland are my two most senior officers.’

Thomas knew that Henry Bishop had introduced the ‘Bishop Mark’, which recorded the date of receipt of every letter at the Post Office and made the sender rather than the recipient responsible for the postage price. ‘So copies must be made quickly?’

‘They must.’ Bishop paused. ‘The mark helps prevent unwanted tampering, but it also affects our own activities. That is another matter Morland is addressing. Now the Post Office. All correspondence sent from London is either handed in here by the sender or delivered from one of our collection points in the city. It is sorted and stamped by our clerks, who come in at six in the evening on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Much of our work is perforce carried out at night. Indeed, the Clerks of the Road – there are six of them – who are in charge of the record and accounts books are provided with lodgings in the building.’

Thomas had never given much thought to the intricacies of the Post Office. Like everyone else, he took his letters to the Postmaster’s office in Romsey and collected those addressed to him at the same time. But, of course, it took a large and complex operation to make such a service work.

‘We have thirty officers and clerks working here,’ went on Bishop, ‘and thirty-two letter carriers in London alone. The Clerks of the Road and the local Postmasters are responsible for safe delivery of all letters and packets outside London.’

‘What about overseas correspondence?’ asked Thomas.

‘Outgoing letters are taken to the Foreign Letter Office in Love Lane, where they are sorted by country and delivered by mail coach to the appropriate office – Yarmouth for Denmark and Holland and Dover for France, for example. From there they go by packet boat.’

‘And incoming letters?’

‘These are sorted in Love Lane and brought to us for onward delivery. We extract all letters which might need our, er, attention, as indeed we do from the inland post. They are given to Lemuel Squire, who decides what to do with them.’

‘How do you know which they are?’

‘We don’t always know, but letters to and from Holland and France are routinely checked and we are aware of certain names and addresses here which require scrutiny.’

‘Yet innocent letters must be opened in the course of the work.’

‘That is so. If a letter is clearly harmless we simply reseal it and send it on its way. With our new techniques this is seldom noticed by the recipient. As Joseph knows, I do not condone this tampering with the mail, but I am obliged to accept it as a necessary intrusion.’

‘Is there anything else you wish to know, Thomas?’ asked Williamson.

‘Let me be clear about this. Suspicious letters are intercepted by one of the clerks and given to Lemuel Squire, who opens, checks and reseals them. If necessary, a copy is made by hand.’

‘Yes,’ replied Bishop. ‘An encrypted letter is always copied and the copy passed to Dr Wallis, that is until now. In future, encryptions will be brought to you at Chancery Lane.’

‘In both cases are the originals sent on?’

‘Other than in very unusual circumstances, they are. We do not generally want our enemies to know that we have read their correspondence and Squire is singularly adept at resealing it.’

‘Quite so. And Morland – what exactly does he do?’

‘Morland speaks and reads ten languages. He is in charge of translations and also assists with decryptions when the volume of work demands it. In addition to which, he is working on a machine which will greatly reduce the time needed to make copies of intercepted correspondence.’

‘A brilliant man indeed. I wonder you need my services as well as his.’

‘Morland’s hands are full,’ replied Williamson quickly. ‘We need another pair.’

‘Very well, gentlemen,’ said Thomas, ‘I have agreed to carry out this work and I shall do so, albeit with some reluctance.’

‘Then it’s time you faced Morland and Squire. Have a sip of Madeira and prepare yourself.’ Bishop rang a bell, and asked his servant to show the gentlemen in. They must have been waiting outside the door because they appeared before Thomas had taken his sip.