CHAPTER IV.
A MARVEL OF MECHANISM.
“The time is coming when it will be cheaper for a working man to travel on a railway than to walk on foot.”
So prophesied George Stephenson some few years before his successful competition at Rainhill; and by his success on that fateful day, he had brought the time appreciably nearer. The directors of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway no longer debated as to what form of traction they should adopt.
But Stephenson did not rest on his laurels. Every new engine showed some improvement. The “Arrow” sped over Chat Moss at about 27 miles an hour, on the occasion of the first complete journey along the line, on the 14th of June, 1830; and when, on the public opening of the railway on the 15th of September, 1830, Mr. William Huskisson, M.P., was unhappily knocked down by the “Rocket,” George Stephenson himself took the maimed body in the “Northumbrian,” fifteen miles in twenty-five minutes—that is, he drove the engine at the speed of thirty-six miles an hour.
The sad death of Mr. Huskisson has often been referred to, but we may tell the story again, following the account given by Mr. Smiles, who had the advantage of the assistance of Robert Stephenson in the preparation of his biography.
The engines it appears halted at Parkside, some seventeen miles from Liverpool, to obtain water. The “Northumbrian,” with a carriage containing the Duke of Wellington and some friends, stood on one line, so that all the trains might pass him in review on the other. Mr. Huskisson had descended from the carriage and was standing on the rail on which the “Rocket” was rapidly approaching. There had been some coolness between the Duke and Mr. Huskisson, but at this time the Duke extended his hand and Mr. Huskisson hurried to grasp it, when the bystanders cried “Get in! get in.”
Mr. Huskisson became flurried and endeavoured to go round the carriage door which was open and hung over the rail; but while doing this, the “Rocket” struck him and he fell, his leg being doubled over the rail and immediately crushed. Unfortunately he died that evening at Eccles Parsonage.
This sad event cast a gloom over the otherwise rejoicing day; but the wonderful speed at which the wounded man was conveyed, proved a marvellous object lesson as to what the locomotive could accomplish.