Everyone of those who got out of the train had a different story. These are valuable because they bring before us a picture of the scene in its different features. Some one escaped from every car but one. From the second passenger coach no one was left to tell the tale. Every one perished in the fall or crash. From the first and third and fifth, many escaped; from the fourth, only one; from the sixth, three; and from the last, all but one. The story of Mr. Parslow, who was in the first, has been given through the public press, and it is given here as descriptive of the experience common to others. He says:
“The first intimation he had of the affair was the sound of the crash of the bridge. Then he felt and realized the sensation of the downward tendency of the coach. He clutched one of theseats to steady himself. All of a sudden, in the flash of a second, the passengers were thrown to the end of the coach which had reached the water. The broken pieces of ice, the snow, and fragments of the car came in with a rush. He caught the stove, which had not yet been cooled from its heat, thinking to save himself thereby from drowning. In doing so he burned his hand to a blister, while the other portion of his body was freezing in the water. He remembered the crashing of the smoker upon his car. As soon as he could collect his thoughts he went to work to extricate himself, but how he did it was unable to state. He only knew he was out of the car and into the fragments of ice and floating pieces of the wreck. From there he managed to reach unbroken ice and from thence he climbed up the height and was the first of that scarred and bruised number to reach the top. In doing this it is to be remembered that the poor man had a piece of gilt molding, one inch wide, three-quarters of an inch thick, and eight inches long, in a portion of his body. It had entered the left shoulder, back of the collar-bone, and penetrated under the shoulder-blade into the side. He scarcely realized his situation until he had been conveyed to the nearest place of comfort. In his car were from 40 to 45 passengers; in thesmoking-car he thinks about the same number. In his opinion there were not less than 200 passengers in all. He says when he got out of the car on the ice the screams of the dying and crushed broke upon his ears, and were the most pitiful sounds that were ever heard. He said that all occurred in such a remarkably brief space that he cannot now realize how it was that so much of human misery could be crowded into a speck of time.”
“The first intimation he had of the affair was the sound of the crash of the bridge. Then he felt and realized the sensation of the downward tendency of the coach. He clutched one of theseats to steady himself. All of a sudden, in the flash of a second, the passengers were thrown to the end of the coach which had reached the water. The broken pieces of ice, the snow, and fragments of the car came in with a rush. He caught the stove, which had not yet been cooled from its heat, thinking to save himself thereby from drowning. In doing so he burned his hand to a blister, while the other portion of his body was freezing in the water. He remembered the crashing of the smoker upon his car. As soon as he could collect his thoughts he went to work to extricate himself, but how he did it was unable to state. He only knew he was out of the car and into the fragments of ice and floating pieces of the wreck. From there he managed to reach unbroken ice and from thence he climbed up the height and was the first of that scarred and bruised number to reach the top. In doing this it is to be remembered that the poor man had a piece of gilt molding, one inch wide, three-quarters of an inch thick, and eight inches long, in a portion of his body. It had entered the left shoulder, back of the collar-bone, and penetrated under the shoulder-blade into the side. He scarcely realized his situation until he had been conveyed to the nearest place of comfort. In his car were from 40 to 45 passengers; in thesmoking-car he thinks about the same number. In his opinion there were not less than 200 passengers in all. He says when he got out of the car on the ice the screams of the dying and crushed broke upon his ears, and were the most pitiful sounds that were ever heard. He said that all occurred in such a remarkably brief space that he cannot now realize how it was that so much of human misery could be crowded into a speck of time.”
The experience of those in the smoking-car was quite remarkable. Several who escaped from this, have told of the fall. There were but four killed in it. Among them was Harry Wagner, conductor of the sleeping cars, who, it is said, was driven against, and even through, the end of the car, by the stove, which swept through the whole length with terrible force.
The conductor, Mr. Henn, speaks of this and says that the stove shot past him on one side and something else fell with a crash on the other side, but he escaped. Mr. J. M. Earle’s experience was quite remarkable. He gives expression to the feelings which many had in almost tragic words. He says:
“It did not seem to me as if we had fallen. I was thoroughly collapsed for a minute or two. Then I heard two or three crashes—cars tumbling off the bridge and striking ours. At the second crash I threw myself on the floor and crouched down under the seats. I did not know but the next one would crush us all. There were several people near me, and I told them to crouch down.“In the coming down the feeling was a beautiful conglomeration of swimming and swinging—I didn’t know whether I was on my head or heels. I can’t describe how I felt when the car struck the solid ice. Every part of my body seemed to be going in opposite directions. I did not experience a dead calm, but a feeling of intense agony; and that continued until I came to myself. It must have been half an hour certainly before I knew what I was doing. Then I got up and struggled around. The terrible noise made by the falling cars made me hold my breath when I thought it was about time for another to come down.”
“It did not seem to me as if we had fallen. I was thoroughly collapsed for a minute or two. Then I heard two or three crashes—cars tumbling off the bridge and striking ours. At the second crash I threw myself on the floor and crouched down under the seats. I did not know but the next one would crush us all. There were several people near me, and I told them to crouch down.
“In the coming down the feeling was a beautiful conglomeration of swimming and swinging—I didn’t know whether I was on my head or heels. I can’t describe how I felt when the car struck the solid ice. Every part of my body seemed to be going in opposite directions. I did not experience a dead calm, but a feeling of intense agony; and that continued until I came to myself. It must have been half an hour certainly before I knew what I was doing. Then I got up and struggled around. The terrible noise made by the falling cars made me hold my breath when I thought it was about time for another to come down.”
The story of Mr. George A. White is the most interesting of all. For, he not only describes the car “Palatine,” from which so many escaped, but he gives such an account as no other one has done. His statement is given at length:
“In going down there was hardly any sound. The only thing we heard was that heavy breathing which bespeaks a fear of something terrible to come. The first sound that greeted my ear was after we struck the ice. The breaking of the glass was like rifle shots, and the train coming down made a terrific roar. Our car fell as it rode,—bodily and straight,—which saved our lives. As soon as the car touched bottom I could see nothing, all was dark. I groped my way out through the east end of the car. Behind us was the Buffalo car, standing on end, almost perpendicular, resting against the abutment of the bridge, one end having taken our platform.“I think none of the Buffalo-car passengers were saved. The coach fell on end, and I never heard a sound from it after the fall, and no one came out. All was death in my estimation. The Buffalo was full of passengers. The parlor car was just ahead of us, and no one came out of it. I think all the passengers it held were killed.“At the right of us, facing the west, was a car that lay on its side. The top of it was close on to ours. Our car lay just as it was running. I went up over the roof of the other car to take a look up and around. I saw a gentleman and, I think, a lady, following me. On looking into the car, I saw a large number of people lying together in a mass.The car was crushed at its bottom and sides. The scene within was horrible, heartrending—indescribable. It was enough to unnerve the bravest. There were maimed and bruised men, women, and children, all held down by the cruel timbers. They were in different stages of delirium and excitement. Some were screaming, some were groaning, and others praying. There was hardly any one within who seemed rational.“I saw the encroachments the fire was making. While on the roof of that car I took a speedy survey of the situation. I realized the terrible, yawning chasm. I shall never forget the horrors of that night.”
“In going down there was hardly any sound. The only thing we heard was that heavy breathing which bespeaks a fear of something terrible to come. The first sound that greeted my ear was after we struck the ice. The breaking of the glass was like rifle shots, and the train coming down made a terrific roar. Our car fell as it rode,—bodily and straight,—which saved our lives. As soon as the car touched bottom I could see nothing, all was dark. I groped my way out through the east end of the car. Behind us was the Buffalo car, standing on end, almost perpendicular, resting against the abutment of the bridge, one end having taken our platform.
“I think none of the Buffalo-car passengers were saved. The coach fell on end, and I never heard a sound from it after the fall, and no one came out. All was death in my estimation. The Buffalo was full of passengers. The parlor car was just ahead of us, and no one came out of it. I think all the passengers it held were killed.
“At the right of us, facing the west, was a car that lay on its side. The top of it was close on to ours. Our car lay just as it was running. I went up over the roof of the other car to take a look up and around. I saw a gentleman and, I think, a lady, following me. On looking into the car, I saw a large number of people lying together in a mass.The car was crushed at its bottom and sides. The scene within was horrible, heartrending—indescribable. It was enough to unnerve the bravest. There were maimed and bruised men, women, and children, all held down by the cruel timbers. They were in different stages of delirium and excitement. Some were screaming, some were groaning, and others praying. There was hardly any one within who seemed rational.
“I saw the encroachments the fire was making. While on the roof of that car I took a speedy survey of the situation. I realized the terrible, yawning chasm. I shall never forget the horrors of that night.”
The experiences of the survivors of the “City of Buffalo” are also given. So many perished in this car, that a description of those in it may be of interest to their friends.
The story of Mr. H. A. White, of Weathersfield, Ct., as published in the daily papers, is as follows. He says:
“The first thought that came into my mind was that I was dead; that it was no use for me to stir or try to help myself. I waited in that position until I heard two more crashes come, when all was quiet; I then tried to see if I could not raise what was on and around me and succeeded. Iopened my eyes and the first thing I saw, was the glass in the top of the door that opened into the saloon in the rear end of the car. I struck that immediately with my hand and thrust my head through it. I spoke then. Up to this time there was not a shriek or voice heard in the car that I was in—all had been stilled.”
“The first thought that came into my mind was that I was dead; that it was no use for me to stir or try to help myself. I waited in that position until I heard two more crashes come, when all was quiet; I then tried to see if I could not raise what was on and around me and succeeded. Iopened my eyes and the first thing I saw, was the glass in the top of the door that opened into the saloon in the rear end of the car. I struck that immediately with my hand and thrust my head through it. I spoke then. Up to this time there was not a shriek or voice heard in the car that I was in—all had been stilled.”
He then says that he heard a voice below him and that he endeavored to help a man out of the car after he had got out himself, but failed.
Mrs. Bradley who, with her nurse and child, was in the rear state-room near the section where Mr. White was sitting, speaks of this same silence. She called repeatedly but heard no sound except that of her own voice. She looked below her for her child and nurse. All she could see was that they were underneath the wreck. She vainly tried to lift them but their bodies seemed to sink lower and lower in the debris. Not a sound proceeded from that direction, and the only conclusion she could arrive at was that their bodies had been crushed.
Thepersonal incidents which occurred were numerous. Many of these have been brought to public attention through the press, yet there are others which have not been narrated. Every one had his own story, but in the confusion of the scene no one is really supposed to have a clear view of the whole event.
These incidents are told by the different passengers who escaped and by the citizens who hastened to the rescue. The following are given as showing the experiences of the women who were on the train. There were many who perished, and it is affecting to read the story of their sufferings while so helpless in the wreck. But the heroism manifested by those who escaped, is especially worthy of note.
The “Cleveland Leader” contains the following:
“At the time of the disaster a man rushed down to the scene ready to help; he saw a woman struggling for life and went to her assistance; he carried her by main force to the solid ice, and then, urged by the cries of the mother, went back to the rescue of a sweet child of three or four years of age; the treacherous wood in splintering, had caught the child in its grasp, and the fire completed the terrible work. The man was compelled to see the child enveloped in flames, and to hear her cries of ‘Help me, Mother!’ ringing out in the agony of death and on the ears of the cruel night. In a moment she was lost, swept up by the sharp tongues of fire, while her mother in helpless agony fell to the earth in a deadly swoon.”Mr. Reid, one of the passengers, saw a woman held in the ruins and burning. She was calling out amid her groans, “Shoot me, and get me out of this misery.” The saddest sight he saw was a woman looking at her burning child.Mrs. Lew says when the crash came she was lying down with her head near the open window. The next thing she knew was that her head was out in the open air, and her body inside of the car. As soon as she got her head out, she saw the newsboy who had a few minutes before supplied her with reading matter. She begged ofhim to help her. He said, “I would be glad to, but my old mother is dependent on me for her entire support. If I am killed what will she do?” Mrs. Lew again entreated him to assist her. He then came so near to her as to be able to take hold of her hand by extending his arms full length. As they joined hands the newsboy pulled and Mrs. Lew threw herself forward, coming out of the car. She then walked on the ice to the bank, where she was helped up the embankment by men and taken to an eating-house, where her wounds were dressed.A villager saw a woman caught, back of the platform railing, and attempted to pull her out. It was only by superhuman effort he succeeded, then only to find them both up to the waist in the water. “Can you save me?” she asked him, in tones that went to his heart. “Yes, if you hold on,” he said. She did hold on to him with all her strength, and he got her safely to the shore, although in the water several times.
“At the time of the disaster a man rushed down to the scene ready to help; he saw a woman struggling for life and went to her assistance; he carried her by main force to the solid ice, and then, urged by the cries of the mother, went back to the rescue of a sweet child of three or four years of age; the treacherous wood in splintering, had caught the child in its grasp, and the fire completed the terrible work. The man was compelled to see the child enveloped in flames, and to hear her cries of ‘Help me, Mother!’ ringing out in the agony of death and on the ears of the cruel night. In a moment she was lost, swept up by the sharp tongues of fire, while her mother in helpless agony fell to the earth in a deadly swoon.”
Mr. Reid, one of the passengers, saw a woman held in the ruins and burning. She was calling out amid her groans, “Shoot me, and get me out of this misery.” The saddest sight he saw was a woman looking at her burning child.
Mrs. Lew says when the crash came she was lying down with her head near the open window. The next thing she knew was that her head was out in the open air, and her body inside of the car. As soon as she got her head out, she saw the newsboy who had a few minutes before supplied her with reading matter. She begged ofhim to help her. He said, “I would be glad to, but my old mother is dependent on me for her entire support. If I am killed what will she do?” Mrs. Lew again entreated him to assist her. He then came so near to her as to be able to take hold of her hand by extending his arms full length. As they joined hands the newsboy pulled and Mrs. Lew threw herself forward, coming out of the car. She then walked on the ice to the bank, where she was helped up the embankment by men and taken to an eating-house, where her wounds were dressed.
A villager saw a woman caught, back of the platform railing, and attempted to pull her out. It was only by superhuman effort he succeeded, then only to find them both up to the waist in the water. “Can you save me?” she asked him, in tones that went to his heart. “Yes, if you hold on,” he said. She did hold on to him with all her strength, and he got her safely to the shore, although in the water several times.
The story of Mrs. Bingham has been already told. She owed her life to her own determined spirit, though it is remarkable that any woman with a broken limb could summon the courage to break a window and then jump into the water and draw herself to the land.
The heroism of Mrs. Swift has been mentioned by the papers, and the author takes pleasure in adding his testimony to the noble and lovely spirit which she manifested through all the sad scenes. The following is an account of the manner of her escape:
“Mrs. Swift retained her senses and her presence of mind. She was badly injured at the time, but did not realize it. When the accident occurred there was a terrible crash; the bell-rope snapped like the report of a pistol, and the lights were extinguished. As the cars went down there was no noise. Her husband was hurled across the aisle and held down senseless. She was wedged in between two seats, but extricated herself. She spoke to her husband, but he made no reply, and she thought he was dead. The agony of her mind at that moment was fearful to contemplate. She finally, with the aid of Mr. White, got him out. He was then delirious, and hardly knew where he was going. Her anxiety was all for her husband. Miss Shepard, Mrs. Graham and Mr. White then took or assisted everybody out of the car, reassuring them by words and deeds, and thus aided in saving many lives.”
“Mrs. Swift retained her senses and her presence of mind. She was badly injured at the time, but did not realize it. When the accident occurred there was a terrible crash; the bell-rope snapped like the report of a pistol, and the lights were extinguished. As the cars went down there was no noise. Her husband was hurled across the aisle and held down senseless. She was wedged in between two seats, but extricated herself. She spoke to her husband, but he made no reply, and she thought he was dead. The agony of her mind at that moment was fearful to contemplate. She finally, with the aid of Mr. White, got him out. He was then delirious, and hardly knew where he was going. Her anxiety was all for her husband. Miss Shepard, Mrs. Graham and Mr. White then took or assisted everybody out of the car, reassuring them by words and deeds, and thus aided in saving many lives.”
Miss Shepard, of Ripon, Wis., proves tohave been a heroine in the terrible tragedy. Many of the survivors have spoken of her as so brave in the midst of the danger. She “was very cool and collected,” says Mr. Sturgis, “and she acted in a heroic manner. She helped the women out, and while I was trying to get the men out, she was on the outside smashing the windows with a piece of timber, clearing the way for those inside.”
Mr. White, of Portland, says:
“She was one of the bravest and best women I ever met. She got out by herself. When I at last came out of the Palatine, after I was satisfied that there were no more persons in the car, the gentlemen who had had their legs broken were still lying within a few feet of the burning cars, and their lives were now again in jeopardy.“To save their lives was my next endeavor. I couldn’t take the two at once. So I took hold of one and dragged him some thirty feet away. Poor fellow! he had several ribs broken, and his ankle was swollen to three times its size. I was very weary at this time. The fire was all the time encroaching, more and more, and the agonizing cries of suffering and burning humanity were hushed, as they suffocated or the cruel flames sent death to relieve them. I got my manaway, but the other was still there. This one was delirious from pain and excitement. I was anxious for both. A citizen from Ashtabula came along, and I asked him to watch my charge while I brought back the other to a place of safety. He said he would. I had just reached the other man, when I looked around and saw that the citizen had deserted his post. But there stood Miss Shepard by me. We stood in full eighteen inches of snow and six inches of water, the ice having been broken and crushed by the cars. She said coolly, ‘Can’t I do something to help you? I am uninjured.’ I got the other man away to a place of safety, some twelve feet back from the car. It wasn’t over seven minutes after the fall before our car was burning, too.” Mr. C. E. Torris says: He saw her standing on the ice and dipping her handkerchief in the water and washing away the blood from the face of a wounded man. And the citizens of Ashtabula also speak of her, and say that it seemed so strange to see her, while all the rest were wounded and bleeding, moving around the engine room, assisting in every way, calm and self-possessed. She seemed more like some good angel who had been sent at such an hour to bestow the gentle ministration of her sex upon the suffering.”
“She was one of the bravest and best women I ever met. She got out by herself. When I at last came out of the Palatine, after I was satisfied that there were no more persons in the car, the gentlemen who had had their legs broken were still lying within a few feet of the burning cars, and their lives were now again in jeopardy.
“To save their lives was my next endeavor. I couldn’t take the two at once. So I took hold of one and dragged him some thirty feet away. Poor fellow! he had several ribs broken, and his ankle was swollen to three times its size. I was very weary at this time. The fire was all the time encroaching, more and more, and the agonizing cries of suffering and burning humanity were hushed, as they suffocated or the cruel flames sent death to relieve them. I got my manaway, but the other was still there. This one was delirious from pain and excitement. I was anxious for both. A citizen from Ashtabula came along, and I asked him to watch my charge while I brought back the other to a place of safety. He said he would. I had just reached the other man, when I looked around and saw that the citizen had deserted his post. But there stood Miss Shepard by me. We stood in full eighteen inches of snow and six inches of water, the ice having been broken and crushed by the cars. She said coolly, ‘Can’t I do something to help you? I am uninjured.’ I got the other man away to a place of safety, some twelve feet back from the car. It wasn’t over seven minutes after the fall before our car was burning, too.” Mr. C. E. Torris says: He saw her standing on the ice and dipping her handkerchief in the water and washing away the blood from the face of a wounded man. And the citizens of Ashtabula also speak of her, and say that it seemed so strange to see her, while all the rest were wounded and bleeding, moving around the engine room, assisting in every way, calm and self-possessed. She seemed more like some good angel who had been sent at such an hour to bestow the gentle ministration of her sex upon the suffering.”
Thecitizens of Ashtabula did all in their power. The disaster was no sooner known than many of them hastened to the rescue. Great exertions were made by those who were present, not only to save the living, but as far as possible in their separate action to extinguish the flames. The survivors were no sooner in a condition to be removed than persons were found who were ready to take the worst cases among them to their own homes. Some of the wounded who were left near the depot, especially those who were at the Eagle Hotel, were removed to the hotels up-town and comfortably provided for. Ladies called upon them wherever they were, and carried to them such delicacies as would tempt their appetites, and flowers to please the eye, and vied with each other in giving attentionto the strangers, all of them showing how much their sympathies had been moved by this sad calamity. The mayor of the city was very energetic amid the excitement of the first few days. He not only met the responsibilities of his office with promptness, but he showed the kindness of his heart in that he took one of the wounded, a Mr. Tomlinson, to his house, and there cared for him until he died.
Mr. Strong, the station agent, also, though laboring under the oppressive sense of being misunderstood, did all that he could under the circumstances. Several of the firemen have borne testimony to the great exertions which he made during the night of the fire. The disadvantage under which he labored on that night was that he was not present at the depot at the time of the accident, but was at home, about half a mile away. The orders from the central office in reference to surgeons reached him through the telegraph office up-town, and his first duty was to obey them, but as he reached the scene of the fire the very sympathy which he felt, led him under the excitement of the moment, to givethose answers which did so much damage and which were so much misunderstood.
The railroad authorities continued to furnish everything that might relieve the sufferings or restore the losses of those who survived. Physicians were procured and nurses provided. Every accommodation which hotels could furnish was paid for with a liberal hand. Those whose clothing had been destroyed or injured, were furnished with new suits throughout. The bills of physicians were paid. Return tickets were furnished and sleeping-car accommodations afforded to the wounded to their very homes. As friends came in search of the lost, they at times received free passes each way, and even escorts in some cases were furnished. Bereaved mothers and fathers and the widowed, were permitted to visit the place in search of relics at the company’s expense.
The event was a calamity to the road as well as to the passengers and their friends. The managers had prided themselves on the success and completeness of their system. The small number of accidents on the line had been noticed, but the sudden and terrible calamity eclipsed all this,and now the grief was great and widespread. The horror was overwhelming and the excitement high. It was impossible to know this without feeling it as a personal affliction, and no doubt the sense of it led to the death of the man who, of all others, was the most sensitive and sympathetic.
The attention of religious people to the spiritual wants of the survivors is worthy of mention. Clergymen called and conversed with them as opportunity was offered. The survivors were hardly able at first to give expression to their feelings, as the confusion of the place was so great. Several were crowded into the same room. The wounds inflicted on the head prevented connected thoughts. The pains and weakness, and the shock to the nervous system rendered the condition of nearly every one critical, for several days. It seemed uncertain whether they might not sink away under the terrible reaction and depression caused by the excitement and exposure. Wounds and bruises which no one supposed they had, were felt, and new ones discovered every day. But as one and another were removed toseparate rooms, the conversations and prayers brought out the deeper feelings which had been hidden.
It was with great solemnity that one and another would recount the peculiar method of escape. More than one said that he thought “his time had come.” One said that he did not expect to live, and that he took his card in his hand that his name might be recognized if he should die.
The suddenness of death was full of solemnity to all. Even the most reckless and hardened were subdued. One young man in a spirit of bravado as he entered the room of a companion, uttered an oath; but the gentleman addressed arose in bed, lame and wounded as he was, and with solemn voice and determined manner, exclaimed: “I will not permit the name of God to be used in that way in my presence—especially at such a time as this.” The young man felt the rebuke, and turned around hid his face, and soon retired. A few days after, he came back and said that “he had not arisen from his bed a morning without thanking God for preserving his life,” andapologized for having spoken as he did. A gentleman and his wife who had escaped from the “Palatine,” were together at the “American House,” happy in being spared to each other, peaceful, loving and grateful; but they were especially delighted to receive a letter from their pastor in the distant East, and read, to those who called, sentences from it so glowing with that pastor’s affection and sympathy.
The ministration of women was one of the delightful things connected with the event. A betrothed had no sooner heard of the wreck and of the survival of her lover, than she hastened to his side and spent the days in caring for him and comforting him by her presence.
When the clergymen visited those different persons at their hotels, they were most respectful in their cordial response to prayer and words of counsel. Even those to whom the subject had not altogether been agreeable before, listened and seemed stirred to the heart with grateful emotions. The time and place for prayer was given, and such nearness to the Almighty God was never known before. It seemed as ifthe veil of eternity had opened, and the presence of God was felt. A loving wife, so gentle and so good, had come to her husband’s side. The affection and the care were great, but the gratitude to God was more, and the piety of both became suddenly deep. It was like the stream in the prophet’s vision. As the past of Christian life was reviewed so seriously, penitence sprang up within the heart, and then the gratitude to God, and then the consecration, and then the delightful swelling love and peace, and then the faith that seemed to hide itself in God’s own heart, and there was a mingling of the emotions as if the ocean of God’s presence was receiving them to its own deep love, and they were taking the first baptism of the Spirit.
The goodness of that precious wife, now had its triumph. It brought the husband’s heart and soul to the same deep faith and piety which she had possessed.
A gentleman, too, who had never made a profession of religion, but whose conversation showed much of acquaintance with the world, and habits of observation, was led to unburdenhis heart’s inmost thoughts to the clergymen who called in. He said: “I am not a professor of religion, sir. I am a worldly man—a man of business—but I have been brought up religiously, have had a praying father and mother, and it seems to me as if I had some faith, for as I was going down in that wreck, and felt that indescribable sensation of falling—(and here he dropped his hands beside the bed with such expressive look and gesture)—a passage of Scripture flashed into my mind, and has been running in it ever since. These are the words: “The foundation of the Lord standeth sure.” The clergyman turned to the Bible, and found the text, and was impressed with the wonderful appropriateness of it: “The Foundation of the Lord standeth sure and the Lord knoweth them that are his.”
Thetime at length arrived for laying away the unburied dead. Nobody had recognized them. God alone knew them, and therefore to his sacred earth were they consigned, that at the resurrection day he might bring them forth to the knowledge of all. Garnered in the harvest of flame, they were to be laid away in God’s store-house.
The hands of strangers were outstretched to bury them, for the hearts of others could only mourn for them, without claiming the poor remnants which were so unrecognizable.
Their sepulchre was in the stranger’s soil, though their memory was in many a home.
The village of Ashtabula, made memorable by so direful a calamity, was now to become the sacred burial place of these bodies which perished.Most sacredly did the citizens of the place regard this trust, which God in His providence had committed to them. No event in the history of the place had so awakened sympathy and aroused the people, and now every attention that was possible, was to be paid at the last sad funeral rites. The town gave itself up to mourning. Arrangements had been previously made for the occasion, and the authorities of the city, the social organizations and the religious bodies were all prepared to honor those who were to be laid away in their midst.
A beautiful lot had been chosen in the cemetery which overlooked the whole city, and there, among the sacred remains of their own beloved, the citizens resolved to place those who were indeed strangers to them, but whom somebody loved. Among the choicest lots of that beautiful hill, a place had been chosen for their deposit. The winding-sheet of snow had been drawn aside, and the graves had been dug, and multitudes assembled from the vicinity, and the result was that an immense assemblage was gathered for the solemn services. A special train arrivedfrom Cleveland, bringing the officers of the Railroad, and the friends and parishioners of Rev. Dr. Washburn and others. By noon all the places of business were closed, and the citizens gathered at the services or arranged themselves in the long procession. The first church service was held in the Methodist house, as it was the largest in the place, and at this the clergymen of the village took part. The opening prayer was made by Rev. I. O. Fisher, of the Baptist Church, with a few touching words in memory of P. P. Bliss. Rev. Mr. McLeary, of the Methodist Church, read the hymn, “We are going home to-morrow.” An appropriate selection of Scripture was read by Rev. Mr. Safford, of the Congregational Church, after which Rev. J. C. White, of the St. John Episcopal Church of Cleveland, delivered an eloquent discourse on the subject of the sacredness of human life. He was followed by Rev. S. D. Peet, who spoke of the need of a sympathy which should be unselfish and universal, and of the need of a preparation for death. Rev. Mr. McGiffert, of the Presbyterian Church, also made remarks uponGod’s knowledge and of the unrecognized dead. The choir sang another of the songs of P. P. Bliss—“There is a light in the valley.” The services were impressive, and the great congregation which had assembled, seemed moved by deep sympathy. The closing remarks of Mr. White were especially appropriate, being a beautiful illustration, showing that life itself was but a great bridge, one end of which lay in life’s beginning, and the other stretched into the great unknown. It spans a chasm full of fire, of death and doom. There are flaws in it which were put there six thousand years ago, and although many have gone over it in safety, it is at any moment liable to fall with some precious soul into the abyss. God had provided a means of escape, and happy was he who would avail himself of it.
A second service was also held at St. Peter’s church, at which Rev. Dr. James Moore officiated, assisted by Rev. Geo. Carter, of Cleveland.
The procession then formed, which was arranged in the following order:
Marshal Fassett and Coroner Richards; Clergy, in sleighs; Bearers, in sleighs; Assistant Marshal;Masonic Association; Friends of deceased, in sleighs; Assistant Marshal; St. Joseph’s Society; Ashtabula Light Guard; Ashtabula Light Artillery; Citizens generally.
Arranged in a long line in front of the churches and along the main street, with the different badges and insignia of office, this procession formed one of the most impressive pageants ever witnessed in the place. It was more than a mile long, and as it moved at the toll of the bell and with the impressive sound of the funeral dirge from the bands present, every one was affected with the solemnity of the occasion.
Contrasted with the white snow which covered the landscape, this array of mourning and sympathizing friends and citizens moved slowly to the last resting place of the dead. As the head of the column entered the cemetery where were gathered the sacred remains which were to be deposited in the graves, the members of the Masonic societies divided, and, acting as pall bearers, silently took up the coffins which had been arranged in a line for them, and bore the precious freight to the open graves, amid thetears of the spectators, who were touched by so unusual a sight. “It was, indeed, a scene which appealed to the heart with sombre power and deep sympathy.” The nineteen coffins—containing the secrets of death which will be given up only at the resurrection—carried between the slow-moving ranks of uncovered men; the sad faces and intent gaze of the silent witnesses; a few mourning women, in black, standing apart, made sacred by their sorrow—one gray-haired man, whose wife and child had been swallowed up in the gulf, among them; a dull, gray sky overhead; the fitful wind sweeping through the bare branches of the trees; the shroud of snow, broken only by those yawning graves; the sad strains of the funeral dirge, in time with the sobbing of the women; the solemn hush which men feel always in the presence of death. The exercises at the grave were opened by the Rev. Mr. Moore, who read the burial service of his church. A selection of Scripture was read by the Rev. Mr. McGiffert, after which the Masons proceeded with their ritual, and at its close the assembled thousands, dismissed with a benediction,proceeded to their homes or to the evening trains which were to convey them out of the city.
Inthe Ashtabula “Telegraph” appeared the following article:
Another Victim of the Bridge Disaster.“Our community received another shock on Saturday last, hardly less severe than that of the news of the disaster itself. The announcement that Charles Collins, the Chief Engineer of the L. S. & M. S. road was dead, without any cause but that he was found lifeless in his bed, carried every one back in mind to the bridge calamity, and there was an intense eagerness for an explanation. The evening papers brought that explanation, but with it an increased effect upon the sensibilities of our citizens. He was, to be sure, found dead in his bed, but beside him were the implements telling the manner of death. He died by his own hand. The story of his death we abstract and condense from the Cleveland dailies, as follows: Mr. Collins’ assistant—Mr. I. C. Brewer, of the Toledo division, sought his presence at his office on Water street, on Saturday morning, but not finding him or hearing of him, passed over to his residence, and being informed by the colored man in charge that he was not there, determined to make an examination of the house for the settlement of the question—whether he was in the house. Upon passing through the house everything indicated order and quiet, but loneliness, until the bedroom was reached. Here he found the person of his search, dead, and in the first stages of decomposition, marked with blood, a revolver at hand, with which the deed was done, and the handle of another just showed from his pillow. The determined purpose that controlled him was shown by the means for making his destruction sure. A razor was also found upon the bed. It was found that the muzzle of the revolver had been placed in his mouth, and the direction of the ball was upward through the roof of the mouth, and out through the upper and back part of his head. The first shot seems to be the fatal and only one.CHARLES COLLINS.“In casting about for a cause for this violent and shocking death, circumstances point to the effect upon his mind of the bridge accident at this place. We find that he laid it deeply to heart, and when he first beheld the scene, he weptover it in an outburst of grief. That effect he seems not to have been able to shake off. It followed him night and day, leaving no taste for food, and driving sleep from his pillow, until he was led to say to some of his more intimate friends, that he believed it would drive him crazy. His was a gentle, sensitive nature, and his profession carried to its utmost perfection and success, which was shown in the superior condition of the road, and all its appointments were his chief pride. This pride, we apprehend, never extended to this bridge, as his rather guarded observations in reference to it, from the beginning, sufficiently indicate. In the minds of many of the best informed in this community, he rather shrank from the responsibility of it. The special care of it, therefore, seems to have been in a great measure, at least, committed to other hands. Whatever his feelings, however, he could not in his position escape responsibility. The sense of that responsibility seems to have had a striking effect upon him in the recent examinations by the Legislative Committee, and conferences in which he was present on Wednesday afternoon and evening—the night, probably, upon which the fatal act was committed. His state of mind was not unobserved by some of his intimate companions. We are told that Mr. Brewer, histrusted assistant, had, at his earnest solicitation, consented to remain with him during Monday and Tuesday nights, and was surprised at the alarming state into which his mind had fallen.“It was further shown by the act, and the manner of it. He had tendered his resignation to the Board of Directors, on the Monday before, when with tears he said, ‘I have worked for thirty years, with what fidelity God knows, for the protection and safety of the public, and now the public, forgetting all these years of service, has turned against me.’“The resignation was, of course, not accepted, and he was assured that his view was entirely unjust and unworthy, but all to no effect. The thought of possible injustice still haunted him.“On Wednesday night Mr. Brewer intended to go, as he had done the two previous nights, and stay with him at his residence on St. Clair street. But, upon calling at the office and being assured that he had left no word for him either in regard to the evening or concerning the trip of inspection contemplated for Thursday, he concluded that the deceased had left for his home in Ashtabula, where of late he spent much of his time. Thus affairs rested till Saturday morning, when, learning that he was not in Ashtabula, Mr. Brewer feared that some evil had befallen him,and going to the house he inquired of the colored man, went through the house to the family bedroom, and found the remains of the deceased as described above.“There is little doubt but that Mr. Collins intended to go on the proposed tour of inspection on Thursday, for his traveling-bag was found neatly packed in the bed-room. It is probable that the act was one of momentary desperation, when the troubled thoughts of the previous days and nights, weighing upon him, made life hard to bear.“Mr. Collins’ family had been in Ashtabula, where his wife’s relatives reside, for several days, and the colored man supposed that he was alone in the house. But the quarters of the latter are in the back part of the house, while Mr. Collins’ room is in the front. It is supposed that Mr. Collins came in without the knowledge of any one and went to bed on Wednesday night. Everything in the bed-room confirmed this opinion. The various articles of his dress were disposed about the room, his collar and necktie upon a stand near the head of the bed, his pants, shirt and coat were laid over a chair, and his shoes and stockings under the edge of the bed. The vest was carefully placed under the mattress. The scene presented to view upon entering theroom, was most horrible. Three chambers of the large revolver at the right of the corpse were empty, but only one wound was found. There was a hole in the wall of the room, recently made, such as a ball would make, and it seems evident from this fact that the deceased was sitting up when the fatal discharge was made. There was no appearance of a struggle, but the discoloring of the blood from the wound which had flowed from the mouth and nose, was terrible to behold. The face was badly stained and presented a horribly ghastly appearance. From the fact that decomposition had already begun, it is inferred by the coroner that death took place some 48 hours before, or on Thursday morning.“The deceased was born in Richmond, N. Y., in 1826, and was, therefore, 51 years of age. He was from an old and highly respected family, received a liberal education at one of the eastern colleges, and his professional education and graduation, from the Renssaeler Polytechnic Institute. In this latter institute he gave full promise of the abilities which he was destined to display in after years. Immediately after graduation he was employed for several years in practical engineering in various parts of New England, and next took charge of some important work on the Boston and Albany railroad. He came to this section ofOhio in 1849 to take charge of locating the C. C. C. & I. railroad. He was an engineer also in its construction. Next he was for a time superintendent of the Painesville & Ashtabula road, and when the L. S. & M. S. consolidation was brought about, he was given his present position.“As an engineer, Mr. Collins enjoyed the confidence of many of the leading railroad men of the country. Among them was Commodore Vanderbilt, whose friendship he also enjoyed.“We are told that when any work was to be performed upon the great lines of which he had control, Mr. Collins’ plans and methods were always accepted by the great commander, without question, as the cheapest and best.”
Another Victim of the Bridge Disaster.
“Our community received another shock on Saturday last, hardly less severe than that of the news of the disaster itself. The announcement that Charles Collins, the Chief Engineer of the L. S. & M. S. road was dead, without any cause but that he was found lifeless in his bed, carried every one back in mind to the bridge calamity, and there was an intense eagerness for an explanation. The evening papers brought that explanation, but with it an increased effect upon the sensibilities of our citizens. He was, to be sure, found dead in his bed, but beside him were the implements telling the manner of death. He died by his own hand. The story of his death we abstract and condense from the Cleveland dailies, as follows: Mr. Collins’ assistant—Mr. I. C. Brewer, of the Toledo division, sought his presence at his office on Water street, on Saturday morning, but not finding him or hearing of him, passed over to his residence, and being informed by the colored man in charge that he was not there, determined to make an examination of the house for the settlement of the question—whether he was in the house. Upon passing through the house everything indicated order and quiet, but loneliness, until the bedroom was reached. Here he found the person of his search, dead, and in the first stages of decomposition, marked with blood, a revolver at hand, with which the deed was done, and the handle of another just showed from his pillow. The determined purpose that controlled him was shown by the means for making his destruction sure. A razor was also found upon the bed. It was found that the muzzle of the revolver had been placed in his mouth, and the direction of the ball was upward through the roof of the mouth, and out through the upper and back part of his head. The first shot seems to be the fatal and only one.
CHARLES COLLINS.
CHARLES COLLINS.
“In casting about for a cause for this violent and shocking death, circumstances point to the effect upon his mind of the bridge accident at this place. We find that he laid it deeply to heart, and when he first beheld the scene, he weptover it in an outburst of grief. That effect he seems not to have been able to shake off. It followed him night and day, leaving no taste for food, and driving sleep from his pillow, until he was led to say to some of his more intimate friends, that he believed it would drive him crazy. His was a gentle, sensitive nature, and his profession carried to its utmost perfection and success, which was shown in the superior condition of the road, and all its appointments were his chief pride. This pride, we apprehend, never extended to this bridge, as his rather guarded observations in reference to it, from the beginning, sufficiently indicate. In the minds of many of the best informed in this community, he rather shrank from the responsibility of it. The special care of it, therefore, seems to have been in a great measure, at least, committed to other hands. Whatever his feelings, however, he could not in his position escape responsibility. The sense of that responsibility seems to have had a striking effect upon him in the recent examinations by the Legislative Committee, and conferences in which he was present on Wednesday afternoon and evening—the night, probably, upon which the fatal act was committed. His state of mind was not unobserved by some of his intimate companions. We are told that Mr. Brewer, histrusted assistant, had, at his earnest solicitation, consented to remain with him during Monday and Tuesday nights, and was surprised at the alarming state into which his mind had fallen.
“It was further shown by the act, and the manner of it. He had tendered his resignation to the Board of Directors, on the Monday before, when with tears he said, ‘I have worked for thirty years, with what fidelity God knows, for the protection and safety of the public, and now the public, forgetting all these years of service, has turned against me.’
“The resignation was, of course, not accepted, and he was assured that his view was entirely unjust and unworthy, but all to no effect. The thought of possible injustice still haunted him.
“On Wednesday night Mr. Brewer intended to go, as he had done the two previous nights, and stay with him at his residence on St. Clair street. But, upon calling at the office and being assured that he had left no word for him either in regard to the evening or concerning the trip of inspection contemplated for Thursday, he concluded that the deceased had left for his home in Ashtabula, where of late he spent much of his time. Thus affairs rested till Saturday morning, when, learning that he was not in Ashtabula, Mr. Brewer feared that some evil had befallen him,and going to the house he inquired of the colored man, went through the house to the family bedroom, and found the remains of the deceased as described above.
“There is little doubt but that Mr. Collins intended to go on the proposed tour of inspection on Thursday, for his traveling-bag was found neatly packed in the bed-room. It is probable that the act was one of momentary desperation, when the troubled thoughts of the previous days and nights, weighing upon him, made life hard to bear.
“Mr. Collins’ family had been in Ashtabula, where his wife’s relatives reside, for several days, and the colored man supposed that he was alone in the house. But the quarters of the latter are in the back part of the house, while Mr. Collins’ room is in the front. It is supposed that Mr. Collins came in without the knowledge of any one and went to bed on Wednesday night. Everything in the bed-room confirmed this opinion. The various articles of his dress were disposed about the room, his collar and necktie upon a stand near the head of the bed, his pants, shirt and coat were laid over a chair, and his shoes and stockings under the edge of the bed. The vest was carefully placed under the mattress. The scene presented to view upon entering theroom, was most horrible. Three chambers of the large revolver at the right of the corpse were empty, but only one wound was found. There was a hole in the wall of the room, recently made, such as a ball would make, and it seems evident from this fact that the deceased was sitting up when the fatal discharge was made. There was no appearance of a struggle, but the discoloring of the blood from the wound which had flowed from the mouth and nose, was terrible to behold. The face was badly stained and presented a horribly ghastly appearance. From the fact that decomposition had already begun, it is inferred by the coroner that death took place some 48 hours before, or on Thursday morning.
“The deceased was born in Richmond, N. Y., in 1826, and was, therefore, 51 years of age. He was from an old and highly respected family, received a liberal education at one of the eastern colleges, and his professional education and graduation, from the Renssaeler Polytechnic Institute. In this latter institute he gave full promise of the abilities which he was destined to display in after years. Immediately after graduation he was employed for several years in practical engineering in various parts of New England, and next took charge of some important work on the Boston and Albany railroad. He came to this section ofOhio in 1849 to take charge of locating the C. C. C. & I. railroad. He was an engineer also in its construction. Next he was for a time superintendent of the Painesville & Ashtabula road, and when the L. S. & M. S. consolidation was brought about, he was given his present position.
“As an engineer, Mr. Collins enjoyed the confidence of many of the leading railroad men of the country. Among them was Commodore Vanderbilt, whose friendship he also enjoyed.
“We are told that when any work was to be performed upon the great lines of which he had control, Mr. Collins’ plans and methods were always accepted by the great commander, without question, as the cheapest and best.”
Thefuneral services of Mr. Collins were held at Ashtabula on Wednesday, Jan. 21st. The occasion was one of great interest. The Cleveland “Herald” of the following day, says:
“It was the last tribute of respect that could be paid by the citizens of the place to a man who, while not a permanent resident, was one among the most respected and loved. He held a prominent place in the hearts of the people as an exemplary man and faithful friend, and their attendance upon the services yesterday was the last act of respect to his mortal remains. Besides the citizens of Ashtabula present, there were many of the leading railroad men of this city, who had known and respected Mr. Collins during the many years they had been his friends and business associates.“Rev. Mr. McGiffert made a few remarks upon the life and character of the deceased.He said that the assembly of people had been called together to pay the last tribute to a man known for honesty, uprightness and truthfulness in all things. He was known in all his dealings for that strict probity of character, that conscientiousness which go so far toward making up the perfect man. He had also the gentle qualities of love and affection for those near and dear to him. The last time he parted from his wife, a few days before his death, not knowing, however, that they were never to meet again, he said to her that he wanted her to remember during their separation, how well he loved her. He was thoughtful always for the welfare of his business associates, and to the young men under him he was a father, a kind friend and firm supporter. In the midst of his many business and worldly cares he did not lose sight of his church relations, and the fruits of his life in this regard are left to testify for him. The spiritual benefit of his employees was not lost sight of while other cares were pressing upon him. After land at Collinwood had been set apart for the erection of a chapel for railroad men, he subscribed first $150, then $350, and when there seemed to be some trouble in raising the necessary amount, he said that the chapel should be built in the spring, any way.“At the request of the family, Mr. J. H. Devereux, representing the railroad acquaintances of Mr. Collins, then made a few remarks. He said that ever since the accident at the bridge, there had been passing through his mind the idea of falling waters, and the song of Moses and the lamb came to him most vividly. In some manner the character of Moses and that of the dead engineer had assimilated themselves together in his mind. Moses was the type of a perfect engineer. He ran the line of the Israelites through the wilderness to a land of security. He had those characteristics of a noble, true man, which made him great, and in just these particulars did Mr. Collins excel, and they made him the leading engineer of this broad land. The speaker referred to the veneration of the deceased, and referred to the fact that he always rested on the Sabbath day, and that his office was always closed on that day, and that he often went to the house of God. Mr. Devereux attempted to say a few words to the friends, but found himself too much moved to speak further, and closed with a few words of prayer.”
“It was the last tribute of respect that could be paid by the citizens of the place to a man who, while not a permanent resident, was one among the most respected and loved. He held a prominent place in the hearts of the people as an exemplary man and faithful friend, and their attendance upon the services yesterday was the last act of respect to his mortal remains. Besides the citizens of Ashtabula present, there were many of the leading railroad men of this city, who had known and respected Mr. Collins during the many years they had been his friends and business associates.
“Rev. Mr. McGiffert made a few remarks upon the life and character of the deceased.He said that the assembly of people had been called together to pay the last tribute to a man known for honesty, uprightness and truthfulness in all things. He was known in all his dealings for that strict probity of character, that conscientiousness which go so far toward making up the perfect man. He had also the gentle qualities of love and affection for those near and dear to him. The last time he parted from his wife, a few days before his death, not knowing, however, that they were never to meet again, he said to her that he wanted her to remember during their separation, how well he loved her. He was thoughtful always for the welfare of his business associates, and to the young men under him he was a father, a kind friend and firm supporter. In the midst of his many business and worldly cares he did not lose sight of his church relations, and the fruits of his life in this regard are left to testify for him. The spiritual benefit of his employees was not lost sight of while other cares were pressing upon him. After land at Collinwood had been set apart for the erection of a chapel for railroad men, he subscribed first $150, then $350, and when there seemed to be some trouble in raising the necessary amount, he said that the chapel should be built in the spring, any way.
“At the request of the family, Mr. J. H. Devereux, representing the railroad acquaintances of Mr. Collins, then made a few remarks. He said that ever since the accident at the bridge, there had been passing through his mind the idea of falling waters, and the song of Moses and the lamb came to him most vividly. In some manner the character of Moses and that of the dead engineer had assimilated themselves together in his mind. Moses was the type of a perfect engineer. He ran the line of the Israelites through the wilderness to a land of security. He had those characteristics of a noble, true man, which made him great, and in just these particulars did Mr. Collins excel, and they made him the leading engineer of this broad land. The speaker referred to the veneration of the deceased, and referred to the fact that he always rested on the Sabbath day, and that his office was always closed on that day, and that he often went to the house of God. Mr. Devereux attempted to say a few words to the friends, but found himself too much moved to speak further, and closed with a few words of prayer.”
Mr. Collins was a man who was held in high esteem by all who knew him. At the memorial services which were held in Cleveland, the Rev. Dr. Hayden, his pastor, said of him:
“Mr. Collins had a praying mother, and when one owes so much to a praying mother as I do, he will not fail to make important mention of this fact. In 1849 he came to Ohio and began the work of laying out the Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati and Indianapolis railroad. Here, amidst the hardships of pioneer life, there were many temptations to desecrate the Sabbath, yet during all this time the young man remembered the influence of the good mother, and manifested a high moral sentiment throughout. His life work on the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern railroad was begun in 1851, and from that time till the moment of his sudden death, his constant attention was given to this great thoroughfare, and his death itself was a sacrifice to it. The busy engineer always had time to look after the betterment of his employees, and there is to-day many a family living upon its own lot, through his beneficence.”
“Mr. Collins had a praying mother, and when one owes so much to a praying mother as I do, he will not fail to make important mention of this fact. In 1849 he came to Ohio and began the work of laying out the Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati and Indianapolis railroad. Here, amidst the hardships of pioneer life, there were many temptations to desecrate the Sabbath, yet during all this time the young man remembered the influence of the good mother, and manifested a high moral sentiment throughout. His life work on the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern railroad was begun in 1851, and from that time till the moment of his sudden death, his constant attention was given to this great thoroughfare, and his death itself was a sacrifice to it. The busy engineer always had time to look after the betterment of his employees, and there is to-day many a family living upon its own lot, through his beneficence.”