eed, was seen coming down upon them like lightning. The
most active of those in peril sprang back into their seats; Lord W--
saved his life only by rushing behind the duke's carriage, Count
Matuscenitz had but just leaped into it, with the engine all but touching
his heels as he did so; while poor Mr. Huskisson, less active from the
effects of age and ill health, bewildered too by the frantic cries of
'Stop the engine: Clear the track!' that resounded on all sides,
completely lost his head, looked helplessly to the right and left, and
was instantaneously prostrated by the fatal machine, which dashed down
like a thunderbolt upon him, and passed over his leg, smashing and
mangling it in the most horrible way. (Lady W-- said she distinctly
heard the crushing of the bone). So terrible was the effect of the
appalling accident that except that ghastly 'crushing' and poor Mrs.
Huskisson's piercing shriek, not a sound was heard or a word uttered
among the immediate spectators of the catastrophe. Lord W-- was the
first to raise the poor sufferer, and calling to his aid his surgical
skill, which is considerable, he tied up the severed artery, and for a
time at least, prevented death by a loss of blood. Mr. Huskisson was
then placed in a carriage with his wife and Lord W--, and the engine
having been detached from the directors' carriage, conveyed them to
Manchester. So great was the shock produced on the whole party by this
event that the Duke of Wellington declared his intention not to proceed,
but to return immediately to Liverpool. However, upon its being
represented to him that the whole population of Manchester had turned out
to witness the procession, and that a disappointment might give rise to
riots and disturbances, he consented to go on, and gloomily enough the
rest of the journey was accomplished. We had intended returning to
Liverpool by the railroad, but Lady W--, who seized upon me in the midst
of the crowd, persuaded us to accompany her home, which we gladly did.
Lord W-- did not return till past ten o'clock, at which hour he brought
the intelligence of Mr. Huskisson's death. I need not tell you of the
sort of whispering awe which this event threw over our circle; and yet
great as was the horror excited by it, I could not help feeling how
evanescent the effect of it was, after all. The shuddering terror of
seeing our fellow-creature thus struck down by our side, and the
breathless thankfulness for our own p