Then,' I said, 'my good fellow, for God's sake,
give me your key, and send one of those laborers here, and I'll empty
this carriage.' We did it quite safely, by means of a plank or two, and
when it was done I saw all the rest of the train, except the two baggage
vans, down the stream. I got into the carriage again for my brandy
flask, took off my travelling hat for a basin, climbed down the
brickwork, and filled my hat with water. Suddenly I came upon a
staggering man, covered with blood (I think he must have been flung clean
out of his carriage), with such a frightful cut across the skull that I
couldn't bear to look at him. I poured some water over his face, and
gave him some to drink, then gave him some brandy, and laid him down on
the grass.

He said 'I am gone,' and died afterwards. Then I stumbled over a lady
lying on her back against a little pollard tree, with the blood streaming
over her face (which was lead color) in a number of distinct little
streams from the head. I asked her if she could swallow a little brandy,
and she just nodded, and I gave her some and left her for somebody else.
The next time I passed her she was dead. Then a man examined at the
inquest yesterday (who evidently had not the least remembrance of what
really passed) came running up to me and implored me to help him find his
wife, who was afterward found dead. No imagination can conceive the ruin
of the carriages, or the extraordinary weights under which the people
were lying, or the complications into which they were twisted up among
iron and wood, and mud and water. I am keeping very quiet here."

This letter was written from "Gad's Hill" four days after the accident.
We were spared any anxiety about our father, as we did not hear of the
accident until after we were with him in London. With his usual care and
thoughtfulness he had telegraphed to his friend Mr. Wills, to summon us
to town to meet him. The letter continues: "I have, I don't know what to
call it, constitutional (I suppose) presence of mind, and was not the
least fluttered at the time. I instantly remembered that I had the MS.
of a number with me, and clambered back into the carriage for it. But in
writing these scanty words of recollection I feel the shake, and am
obliged to stop."

We heard, afterwards, how helpful he had been at the time, ministering to
the dying! How calmly and tenderly he cared for the suffering ones about
him!

But he never recovered