As the result of the scrimmage several men got scratches and bruises, and there were one or two bloody noses. It ought to have been as much a matter for congratulation for the authorities as for the men that nothing more disastrous occurred. But the officials chose not to see it in that light, and several who had been grabbed in the rush by the doorkeepers were haled up like escaped convicts before the presiding superintendent and others of the smaller authorities to answer for the conduct of the whole. Six men were there and then suspended from duty without pay for an indefinite period, and with the prospect of dismissal before them. It was only to be expected that the public would take an exaggerated view of the incident; and the idea gained credence that a veritable riot had taken place inside the Post-Office. Some, indeed, thought it meant a postal strike. The evening paper came out with an account of the “Riot at the General Post-Office,” which, it need hardly be said, was scarcely accurate. The humour of the situation was skilfully hit off a day or two later by a parody on “The Light Brigade,” by one Tom Glamorgan, already recognised as a postal poet. It was said the verses were scribbled hurriedly on his shirt-cuff during moments snatched from the duty the same evening; and being printed next day were sold for a penny a copy amongst the sorters and postmen and others, the small sum realised being sent to some charity. The actual verses perhaps would interest but few, but the printed paragraph introducing the lines epitomised the whole incident The print formed one of a short series of “Postal Fly-sheets,” and the paragraph in question read as follows:— “INSUBORDINATION AT THE GENERAL POST-OFFICE. “On Monday morning, 31st March 1873, a large quantity of ‘Circulars,’ the postage of which amounted to some hundreds of pounds, were required to be sorted and despatched to their various destinations. The men, assistants, and boys worked well till 9 A.M. (having been on duty since 4.30 A.M.), at which time the juniors struck work and congregated around the lobby door to depart; several of the older officers were stationed there to prevent their exit, the ‘Acting Superintendent’ on duty declaring they should not go till all the work was done. The assistants and boys replied to this by tremendous shouting, hooting, hissing, groaning, and pushing, declaring they would do no more that morning unless paid extra for it. At length some of the ringleaders, assisted by the crowd around, continued to push against the officers guarding the doors, striking at one of the ‘overseers’—_breaking hose from all order, discipline, and control_.…”