In 1854 the Mail Coach from Gloucester to Aberystwith ceased running, and I was transferred to the London and Exeter Railway. I travelled upon that line, working the Mail Bag Apparatus and sorting and delivering the Mail bags, until the year 1861, when I was placed at Paddington Station. There I have been ever since, despatching and receiving Mail bags and superintending the Parcel Post work at the station since its commencement. It will be seen, therefore, that I have worked for eighteen years on Mail Coaches, seven years on the railway, and thirty years at Paddington Station. I have often been asked if I had any encounters with highwaymen in my coaching days. Many people seem to have an idea that the stoppage of Mail Coaches by Dick Turpin and his followers was an event of frequent occurrence. All I can say is that in my experience of the road nothing of the kind ever happened to my coach except once, and then I was like to have done myself more injury than the highwaymen did. It was in the year 1836, when I was travelling on the Bristol and Portsmouth Mail. One night, between Bath and Warminster, two men jumped out of the hedge; one caught hold of the leaders, and the other the wheelers, and tried to stop the coach. My coachman immediately whipped up the horses and called out to me, saying “Look out! we are going to be robbed!” I took the blunderbuss out of the sword case (which was a box just in front of the guard’s seat); but, just as I did so, I saw the fellows making towards the hedge, and then lost sight of them altogether. To let them know that I was prepared I fired off into the hedge. I don’t know whether I hit anything; I heard no cries or groans; but I do know that the recoil of the blunderbuss nearly knocked me off my seat. I have had many hard knocks in my time, but that blunderbuss kicked like a mule. No doubt it was loaded to the muzzle, as was usual with those weapons. * * * * * Occasionally of late years I have been reminded of my old coaching days. A few years ago the Marquess of Worcester kindly invited me to go down with him to Brighton by coach. On the journey I was able to tell the Marquess that I knew the late Duke of Beaufort, who used very often to take the reins between Gloucester and Hereford when going down to one of his country seats in Monmouthshire. A splendid whip he was too. It was quite a treat to ride behind him, and every coachman and guard was pleased to see him, he was so affable and pleasant to all. * * * * * One of the Wards—I think it was Harry—used to drive me on the “Quicksilver” Exeter Mail, on which I acted as guard for a short period.