The rules Phillip drafted did not slow the wires.
They slowed people.
The directive circulated first as a handwritten memorandum, then as copied sheets stamped with the seal of the Telegraph Commission. It defined priority classes, escalation thresholds, operator authority, and something that had not existed before in British administration: refusal.
An operator could now say no.
No to a civilian message during peak hours.
No to a ministry attempting to override priority without cause.
No to a clerk who demanded speed without consequence.
The resistance was immediate.
Phillip learned this not from Parliament, but from the operators themselves.
He was back in Whitehall three days later, standing behind a row of desks where sounders clicked in overlapping rhythms. The room smelled of ink, oil, and cold wool. Henry stood beside him, arms folded, watching a junior supervisor argue in low tones with a man wearing a Post Office badge.
