THE CITY OF MANCHESTER 207 



I never saw Mr. Willock myself. He was an 

 excellent officer, if, at last, rather a choleric old 

 gentleman. All great men have their amiable weak- 

 nesses, and one of his was a very intelligible dislike of 

 being plagued with official papers after fom* o'clock, 

 when his brougham was in waiting at the door. He 

 held office for the long term of thirty-two years. 



Mr. Willock driving off at four o'clock, and Mr. 

 Beaufort signing postal papers as he drew his latest 

 breath, were very different men ; but each served the 

 State according to his lights. 



A hundred years ago the postmistress and her 

 daughter, helped by a couple of postmen, did all the 

 work of the Manchester office. In the current year 

 Mr. Harley finds employment not merely for two, 

 but for 2,222 established functionaries, besides a 

 small army of town and suburban sub -postmasters 

 and their assistants. So much for the effect of cotton 

 manufacture and other forms of industry on postal 

 developments in the great city of Manchester. 



Old inhabitants, in 1840, used to tell of the time 

 when the coach for Liverpool — I trust not the mail — 

 started from Manchester at six o'clock in the morning 

 and reached its journey's end at about the same time 

 at night. I looked in Bradshaw lately : the nine 

 o'clock morning train from Manchester is due in 

 Liverpool (thirty-four miles) at nine-forty a.m., being 

 forty minutes, instead of twelve hours, in completing 

 the run. 



The course of post was largely responsible for a 



