Carriages lined the roads and lanes; the river was crowded with boats; and soldiers and constables had their hands full to keep the people from the track.
OPENING THE LINE.
The new locomotives, eight in number, having been carefully tested, steamed proudly up. The "Northumbrian," driven by George Stephenson, took the lead. Next the "Phœnix," under Robert's charge. The "North Star," by a brother of George. The "Rocket," and the rest, with their trains, followed. Six hundred persons were in this procession, flying at the rate of twenty-five miles an hour! Oh the wonder and admiration which the spectacle excited! These noble steam-horses, panting, prancing, snorting, puffing, blowing, shooting through tunnels, dashing across bridges, coursing high embankments, and racing over the fields and far away! England and the world never saw before a sight like that.
But the joy and the triumph of the occasion were destined to be damped by a sad disaster. At Parkenside, seventeen miles from Liverpool, the "Northumbrian," which carried the Duke and his party, was drawn up on one track, in order to allow the other trains to pass in review before them on the other. Mr. Huskisson had alighted, and, standing outside, was talking with the Duke, when a hurried cry of "Get in! get in!" went up from the bystanders. For on came the "Rocket," steaming at full speed. Mr. Huskisson, startled and confused, attempted to regain the carriage an instant too late: he was struck down, and the "Rocket" went over him.
"I have met my death!" exclaimed the unfortunate man; which, alas! proved but too true, for he died that evening.
A sad confusion prevailed. The wounded gentleman was lifted into the carriage, and the "Northumbrian" took him over the track home, a distance of fifteen miles, in about twenty minutes. So swiftly and easily done! The use rather than the abuse of the new power made the strongest impression.
The mournful accident threw a cloud over the occasion. The Duke wished to stop the celebration, and immediately return to Liverpool. Mr. Huskisson's friends joined with him in the wish. Others felt that Manchester should not be disappointed in witnessing the arrival of the trains, and that the accident might become magnified and misrepresented, and thus operate mischievously upon public sentiment in relation to railroads; the party therefore consented to proceed to their journey's end, but were unwilling to mingle in any of the rejoicings common to such occasions.
But the railroad needed no such demonstrations to publish or to prove its worth. It had within itself more substantial proof. Time was saved; labour was saved; money was saved. Coal, cotton, and every article of merchandise useful to men, could be carried cheaper, could be had cheaper than ever before; and, what was better, had in quantities sufficient to satisfy the industry and necessities of men. And with cheapness were combined comfort and safety. The first eighteen months, 700,000 persons were carried over the road, and not an accident happened!
But were not people frightened by the smoke, cinders, fire, and noise of the engines, as the opposition in Parliament had declared they would be? No, no. It was not long before everybody wanted land near the track; and land, therefore, near the road rapidly rose in value. The farmers who had driven the surveyors from their fields, now complained of being left on one side; and those who had farms near the station to rent, rented them at a much higher rate than ever before. Barren lots became suddenly profitable, and even Chat Moss was turned into productive acres!