Therewas a young lady on that train. Accomplished and beautiful, she had already become the object of admiration to many, and was the pride of fond parents. Blooming, buoyant and hopeful, she was a delightful companion. Her light, rosy complexion so radiant made her a picture of health. She used to laugh and say to her mother, “I never have any compliments except that I am such a healthy looking girl.” Her mother writes:
“On her sweet, fair hand she wore a slender thread of gold which held the setting of a very brilliant, though not large, diamond. On the same finger she wore a heavy, plain, gold ring. Her wardrobe was very complete and almost entirely new. Her jewelry consisted of turquoise, pearls, Florentine mosaics and Genoese silver.Everything she had in the way of ornament or jewelry, she had with her. She had a link gold necklace and gold handkerchief ring, with a small ring for the finger attached by a slender chain. A Chegary medal in the form of a Greek enameled cross, was in her trunk, the sign of honor from the school where she had graduated. In that trunk were also many dresses, beautiful and expensive and becoming to her form. All she had, she took with her. Her bridesmaid’s dress was with her; she was dressed in it only the week before at the wedding of her dearest friend; she also had it on at a wedding the night before she started. Yet she was not a mere child of fashion! She was born to social position and always accustomed to society; it was the daily habit of her life but brought no excitement with it. She really cared but little for parties, and often spoke in that way. She was an active member of the Episcopal church and very conscientious in the performance of her duties. Her love of sacred music seemed like an inspiration; I have watched her face become almost transfigured by aholiness of expression which would flit across it while she was singing. She had been kept singularly free from the little vanities and excitements of a young lady’s life, by the grace of God, who kept her as pure a child as when He gave her to me a precious infant. Oh! it comes to me now how carelessly I thought of my treasure. How little I appreciated the great trust that God had given me. How I thought of her as an ordinary girl.”
The thought of her death had never entered the minds of her parents. But she died, and everything connected with her was strangely swept away. The sad consolation of weeping over her silent remains was denied. Her picture, for which she stood two days before her starting, was the only mercy which God had vouchsafed the parents. Her mother again writes: “It would indeed be a comfort to me to have even one little thing which would seem a part of herself, but we have not one trace of her personal belongings.” Her funeral was attended in the city of her home, but the remembrance of her sweet spirit and beautiful voice was all that the friends had to comfort them.
The following are the eloquent, heart-felt words which dropped from the lips of an affectionate and aged pastor at her funeral, as the sweet fragrance of her life and spirit came before his mind. He says:
“I dare hardly venture a few words upon the sweet singer of our Israel, who was but yesterday the charm, and the graceful and elegant ornament to our choir. Here she won the confidence and love of all of us. Here she uttered those sweet sounds which captivated all hearts. Here she became known to us as the happy, the cheerful, the glad and always unselfish and noble-natured girl, the almost idol of her bereaved parents and the pride and joy of her companions. Here on the last day of our Holy Communion service she was present and joined with us in that hallowed song of love and worship which she now repeats and sings with the angels and blessed spirits of that other and better world, in the presence of God and His holy angels.”
“I dare hardly venture a few words upon the sweet singer of our Israel, who was but yesterday the charm, and the graceful and elegant ornament to our choir. Here she won the confidence and love of all of us. Here she uttered those sweet sounds which captivated all hearts. Here she became known to us as the happy, the cheerful, the glad and always unselfish and noble-natured girl, the almost idol of her bereaved parents and the pride and joy of her companions. Here on the last day of our Holy Communion service she was present and joined with us in that hallowed song of love and worship which she now repeats and sings with the angels and blessed spirits of that other and better world, in the presence of God and His holy angels.”
Thus passed away the beautiful, the lovely, the song-like spirit of sweet Minnie Mixer.
The story has been told of a young man who so anxiously looked for some trace of his mother’s body during those sad days in which so much sorrow was concentrated.
A description of that mother’s character has been well drawn, by those who knew her.
Mrs. Adelia E. Moore, of Hammondsport, was a member of the Episcopal Church and the following are the tributes of affection bestowed by the clergymen who officiated at her funeral.
Rev. Mr. Cushing said of her:
“Can I ever forget her presence and her image under my own roof during three of the most painfully anxious days of my life, watching through the long, long winter night; wakeful to every sound, to every movement, to every want; the low, soothing voice, the noiseless step, the gentle hand wiping away the clammy sweat, and standing by us, patiently and willingly, until the crisis was past? (Mrs. C. dangerously ill of pneumonia is the occasion referred to.) I could not but refer to this, not only as an expression of grateful acknowledgement which is justly due, but also as speaking for many others to whom she was a friend indeed, because a friend in need—just that kind of need in which, above all other needs, we feel the weakest, the most utterly powerless in our own unaided selves.“In this way, and in these kind offices, she may be said wherever residing and through all the mature years of her life, to have gone aboutdoing good, unostentatious, unpublished good; and the crowning beauty of it all, as respects her, is that she claimed no merit for these disinterested acts, expected no human recompense, but performed them; went at any one’s call, because she deemed it her duty to go, or because it was the impulse of her sympathizing heart. She was truly the Good Samaritan of her sex.”
“Can I ever forget her presence and her image under my own roof during three of the most painfully anxious days of my life, watching through the long, long winter night; wakeful to every sound, to every movement, to every want; the low, soothing voice, the noiseless step, the gentle hand wiping away the clammy sweat, and standing by us, patiently and willingly, until the crisis was past? (Mrs. C. dangerously ill of pneumonia is the occasion referred to.) I could not but refer to this, not only as an expression of grateful acknowledgement which is justly due, but also as speaking for many others to whom she was a friend indeed, because a friend in need—just that kind of need in which, above all other needs, we feel the weakest, the most utterly powerless in our own unaided selves.
“In this way, and in these kind offices, she may be said wherever residing and through all the mature years of her life, to have gone aboutdoing good, unostentatious, unpublished good; and the crowning beauty of it all, as respects her, is that she claimed no merit for these disinterested acts, expected no human recompense, but performed them; went at any one’s call, because she deemed it her duty to go, or because it was the impulse of her sympathizing heart. She was truly the Good Samaritan of her sex.”
The Rev. Mr. Gardner also said:
“And oh! how much we shall all miss her; we shall miss her as a busy parish worker; we shall miss her in the Sunday-school, and her class of little children will sadly miss her; so will the Ladies’ Sewing Society miss her, for she was one of its chief workers, but memorials of her in the Society’s work will long remain—even longer, perhaps, than any of us shall live to see. And the sick and afflicted will most surely miss her; for it may be said of her as it was of her Divine Master, she ‘went about doing good.’ For this work she had a peculiar fitness—going in and out among the sick as if it were her special calling. Many are the families where she has ministered, and with one voice they will attest all that I have said of her. But above all, her family will miss her—the wife and mother, the sister and near relative are gone, gone before, not lost.”
“And oh! how much we shall all miss her; we shall miss her as a busy parish worker; we shall miss her in the Sunday-school, and her class of little children will sadly miss her; so will the Ladies’ Sewing Society miss her, for she was one of its chief workers, but memorials of her in the Society’s work will long remain—even longer, perhaps, than any of us shall live to see. And the sick and afflicted will most surely miss her; for it may be said of her as it was of her Divine Master, she ‘went about doing good.’ For this work she had a peculiar fitness—going in and out among the sick as if it were her special calling. Many are the families where she has ministered, and with one voice they will attest all that I have said of her. But above all, her family will miss her—the wife and mother, the sister and near relative are gone, gone before, not lost.”
And the Rev. Mr. Howard said of her:
“Of the estimable lady whose death we commemorate, it may be said that one has been taken out from the bosom of this church and of this community, who was inspired and warmed with all its life, religious, social and domestic; alive to, and promoting according to her ability, everything which conduced to its welfare and improvement. All the consolation which may ever be legitimately drawn from Christian character, may be justly claimed and appropriated here. She was indeed a good woman, and one of the saints of God.”
“Of the estimable lady whose death we commemorate, it may be said that one has been taken out from the bosom of this church and of this community, who was inspired and warmed with all its life, religious, social and domestic; alive to, and promoting according to her ability, everything which conduced to its welfare and improvement. All the consolation which may ever be legitimately drawn from Christian character, may be justly claimed and appropriated here. She was indeed a good woman, and one of the saints of God.”
Manynoble characters were lost to the world in this great calamity.
Very few disasters ever reached so far, or brought bereavement to so many communities. The breadth of the land was swept by it. There never was so widespread mourning for any death which brought loss to only private circles. It was more like the mourning which follows the death of some public officer—some great and good man—when a nation is called upon to weep.
It was, indeed, almost a national calamity. The very mention of the names of the dead, and the places to which they belonged, shows how many communities were afflicted, and the very funerals which were held, indicate how many circles were bereaved.
They were not all private mourners, nor werethey merely different circles of friends sharing in a common sorrow. Churches mourned their beloved pastor or the most useful members; villages and even counties were made to feel the loss of the skilful physician; the whole land—yes, the world—has been impressed by the silence which came so suddenly upon the tongue of the sweet singer of Israel; and the various circles of society, from the highest to the lowest, were affected by the death which invaded so many classes.
Out of this number of worthy characters who went down in that awful plunge where so many mourn, it is difficult to select, for it is easy to say many things in praise of all. Indeed, a volume might be written which should contain nothing but the memoirs of the lost. The following sketches are given out of regard to those who have so kindly encouraged the author in the task which he has undertaken, as well as from an admiration of the characters which have been so faithfully portrayed by those who knew the persons well.
The name of E. P. Rogers has been mentioned.Of him, Rev. Dr. Collyer has spoken, and the following selection from a sermon preached in Chicago is given, as descriptive of his character.
Speaking of all of those who perished in the train, he says:
“They are lost to this world before their time. Hundreds of homes will have a shadow on them many years. Children are fatherless and motherless. Men and women are weeping. The whole world about us is poorer and sadder, and there is no compensation which can reach the case. Here was our fellow-townsman, Mr. Rogers, in the prime of his life, steady and true as the day, a man whose bond you would not want if you had his word, or even his word if you knew he had made up his mind. There were a mother and sister in his old Eastern home, to whom his presence in the world was as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land; people here trusting their property to him as the soul of prudence and honor, and resting without a fear on his sturdy strength. Gone in the midst of his days, with the kiss of his mother and sisters fresh on his mouth. Gone with the world in his heart, the sweet, unwholesome world in which he was so glad to live. Gone with these things all to bedone that only an honest and trusty man can do. Gone from every place that knew him, and was glad for him. Gone—and not a trace of him friendship or kinship or love could recognize. Gone into heaven, and wanted on the earth. It is no great comfort, I fear, to those who were very near him to think of him in the eternal rest. They want him here, and ought to have him here, and would have him but for that which human integrity and clear manhood might have prevented. It is such sad things as this that put the most terrible emphasis on this question. God asks, ‘Why will ye die?’ and starts the wonder when we shall summon the better spirit to do whatever can be done to put an end to these great disasters.”
“They are lost to this world before their time. Hundreds of homes will have a shadow on them many years. Children are fatherless and motherless. Men and women are weeping. The whole world about us is poorer and sadder, and there is no compensation which can reach the case. Here was our fellow-townsman, Mr. Rogers, in the prime of his life, steady and true as the day, a man whose bond you would not want if you had his word, or even his word if you knew he had made up his mind. There were a mother and sister in his old Eastern home, to whom his presence in the world was as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land; people here trusting their property to him as the soul of prudence and honor, and resting without a fear on his sturdy strength. Gone in the midst of his days, with the kiss of his mother and sisters fresh on his mouth. Gone with the world in his heart, the sweet, unwholesome world in which he was so glad to live. Gone with these things all to bedone that only an honest and trusty man can do. Gone from every place that knew him, and was glad for him. Gone—and not a trace of him friendship or kinship or love could recognize. Gone into heaven, and wanted on the earth. It is no great comfort, I fear, to those who were very near him to think of him in the eternal rest. They want him here, and ought to have him here, and would have him but for that which human integrity and clear manhood might have prevented. It is such sad things as this that put the most terrible emphasis on this question. God asks, ‘Why will ye die?’ and starts the wonder when we shall summon the better spirit to do whatever can be done to put an end to these great disasters.”
The following biographical outlines are given by Rev. L. Hand of Polk City, Iowa:
“George Francis Hubbard was born in Ipswich, Mass., May 12th, 1841, and so had passed his 35th anniversary. His parents removed to Claremont, N. H., before he was a year old, in which place he spent his childhood and youth. He studied at Meriden Academy, Dartmouth College, and Harvard Medical School. His first professional work was in St. John’s College Hospital in Annapolis, Md., during the war. Hecame to Polk City eleven years ago last September, and a year later was married to Eliza E. Tone, who survives him with three daughters. His life work has been here; here he has won his fortune, his good name and a warm place in the affections of our citizens. During these eleven years he has applied himself with great diligence to his professional work. Few men have been able to endure so much labor and fatigue. You all know of his long rides, sometimes lost on the prairie in the stormy night, long seeking some known object to guide his way, sometimes swimming his horse across the high river.“During this time he has studied to keep abreast with the progress made by his profession, reading medical journals, attending the meetings of the profession and most of the time directing the reading of a student in his office. Few physicians carry to their patients more of sympathy and personal interest, making his visits more like those of a wise friend than that of a professional man. A man who was very intimate with him for years, told me that few persons knew how severely he studied his cases. There is a limit to the sympathy any one man can give, but no one could come nearer to carrying every patient upon his heart as though it were that of a personal friend. His bearing was that of modestself-distrust which forbore claiming to fully understand his work or making large promises of cure. He carried to the sick bed a cheery kindliness, mingled with that dignity and self-reliance which quickly commanded confidence.“As a citizen he had that public spirit which made him prompt to sustain our educational and religious institutions, or any interest that promotes the public weal. As a member of our Common Council he stood alone in opposing the change in an ordinance which opened the door for the licensing of saloons in our village. He has long been a member of the orders who have charge of this burial service to-day.“He became a member of this church, some eight years ago. For it he has faithfully worked and generously given. Many is the long ride I have shared with him when all these matters were fully discussed, and it appeared how closely he cherished and valued these interests of religion. He was by temperament, conservative and cautious, not the most hopeful, but his hold was steady and firm to any work to which he applied himself. It will be asked in many circles, how can we get along without him, but nowhere with more feeling and fear than in this little church circle.”
“George Francis Hubbard was born in Ipswich, Mass., May 12th, 1841, and so had passed his 35th anniversary. His parents removed to Claremont, N. H., before he was a year old, in which place he spent his childhood and youth. He studied at Meriden Academy, Dartmouth College, and Harvard Medical School. His first professional work was in St. John’s College Hospital in Annapolis, Md., during the war. Hecame to Polk City eleven years ago last September, and a year later was married to Eliza E. Tone, who survives him with three daughters. His life work has been here; here he has won his fortune, his good name and a warm place in the affections of our citizens. During these eleven years he has applied himself with great diligence to his professional work. Few men have been able to endure so much labor and fatigue. You all know of his long rides, sometimes lost on the prairie in the stormy night, long seeking some known object to guide his way, sometimes swimming his horse across the high river.
“During this time he has studied to keep abreast with the progress made by his profession, reading medical journals, attending the meetings of the profession and most of the time directing the reading of a student in his office. Few physicians carry to their patients more of sympathy and personal interest, making his visits more like those of a wise friend than that of a professional man. A man who was very intimate with him for years, told me that few persons knew how severely he studied his cases. There is a limit to the sympathy any one man can give, but no one could come nearer to carrying every patient upon his heart as though it were that of a personal friend. His bearing was that of modestself-distrust which forbore claiming to fully understand his work or making large promises of cure. He carried to the sick bed a cheery kindliness, mingled with that dignity and self-reliance which quickly commanded confidence.
“As a citizen he had that public spirit which made him prompt to sustain our educational and religious institutions, or any interest that promotes the public weal. As a member of our Common Council he stood alone in opposing the change in an ordinance which opened the door for the licensing of saloons in our village. He has long been a member of the orders who have charge of this burial service to-day.
“He became a member of this church, some eight years ago. For it he has faithfully worked and generously given. Many is the long ride I have shared with him when all these matters were fully discussed, and it appeared how closely he cherished and valued these interests of religion. He was by temperament, conservative and cautious, not the most hopeful, but his hold was steady and firm to any work to which he applied himself. It will be asked in many circles, how can we get along without him, but nowhere with more feeling and fear than in this little church circle.”
Oneof the saddest things connected with the whole calamity, and the circumstance which made the event a personal bereavement to many thousands of people, was the death of Mr. P. P. Bliss and his wife.
P. P. BLISS.
P. P. BLISS.
His name will always be associated with Ashtabula in the sad memories of that hour. Yet there are brighter visions connected with that name, which have a tendency to relieve the gloom of that whole calamity.
The very mention of those loved persons brings up the memory of their sweet songs. These songs may be supposed to echo in the air, and to mingle with all the mourning, so as to give almost a melody to the melancholy sounds. It is, indeed, a plaintive song. Yet there is a hopeful, soul-thrilling strain running through it all.The memory of the sweet singer is a joyful, happy one, bringing delightful associations to the minds of all who knew him. Few persons ever endeared themselves to so many people in so short a life; but his spirit delighted others with its very sweetness.
The early days of Mr. Bliss were spent in toil. His parents were in humble circumstances, and while yet a youth, his father died, leaving him to meet the obstacles of life with only the counsel of his mother, whom he loved, but dependent on his own exertion for a livelihood. For a time the young man was engaged as a hired hand upon a farm. His home was at this time in the western part of Pennsylvania, where also, he received a partial education as a pupil of the collegiate institution at Towanda, Pa.
After a short period of study he went to Rome, Pa., and taught a district school. Here he met the lady who became his wife and to whom he ascribed the main part of his success. She was the daughter of O. F. Young, Esq., of Rome, an Elder in the Presbyterian Church. He used to say to his friends, “All I am, I owe tomy wife.” Under the influence received from her, he entered upon the study of music, and first felt the stirrings of that gift which made him so useful. Together they went to Prof. Root’s Normal Academy at Geneseo, N. Y., where he made great advancement in music, and won the admiration of his gifted teacher.
It was, however, in Chicago, that his musical career really began; but it is a singular fact that fire was the element that brought out the genius of the man, as well as that in which his spirit was released from his body, and borne to higher realms.
He often remarked that it was the great fire which made him, because it liberated him from secular occupations, and led him to devote himself to the Lord’s work. At the time, he was in the employ of the firm of Root & Cady, but the flames which laid in ruins the great city, also swept away his house, and from that event forward he seemed to have no home except where the service of song might lead him. He became connected with Rev. Dr. Goodwin’s church as chorister and superintendent, and there,he won all hearts, not only by his singing, but by his remarkable devotion as a Christian.
The choir meetings were always opened with prayer; he spoke and wrote personally to the members of the choir on the subject of religion; and he trained and improved them so that they sung from the impulse of loving and pious hearts. Dr. Goodwin bears testimony to his usefulness in this position, and says that Mr. Bliss’ services in the choir, rendered his ministry more earnest, pleasant and fruitful.
It was, however, in connection with the precious revival work that the genius of Mr. Bliss was brought to that higher flight which gave such a broad influence, and caused his song to be heard throughout the land. About six years ago, Major Whittle and he first ventured out in the gospel work. It was then that he began to put words to music, both of which had sprung from the deep melody of his own heart.
At a meeting held in Rockford, Ill., a story was told which thrilled him with its interest, and under the inspiration of it, he with a glowing heart, composed that noble song, “Hold theFort,” which has done so much to arouse and cheer the Christian people in every land.
From this time his own hymns inspired the melody which he sang. There was the inspiration of a heart full of love, united to a voice rich and expressive of emotion. “The effect of his singing was wonderful.” “Melting in the fervor of his emotion, with tears filling his eyes, he sang his modest lyrics until every heart owned the spell.” He was the author of the most popular songs used in the Moody and Sankey meetings. Any one who has heard these, may know what power they have had in moulding character, and in stirring souls to a lofty devotion.
The hymns “What shall the harvest be,” “Whosoever will,” “More to follow,” “That Will be Heaven for me,” “Almost Persuaded,” were written by his pen, and the music inspired by his genius.
He also wrote the music of many other of the favorite hymns which have been sung by so many thousands. He wrote many of his songs upon the sudden inspiration of some incident. Forinstance, when Mr. Moody at one of his meetings told the story of the wreck of the steamer at Cleveland, and had said that it was because the lights on the pier were not burning, he was thrilled with the anecdote, and impressed with the truth it illustrated, at once wrote out that beautiful song, “Let the lower lights be burning,” and set it to music.
For the last three years, Mr. Bliss has given himself to the work of composing and singing for the revival meetings. This was done through the earnest persuasions of Mr. Moody. His success was very great. It was said at his funeral that probably no other man has ever reached so many hearts by song as he. Mr. Moody said: “This man who has died so young, his hymns are now sung around the world. Only a few days ago a book came to me from China, and there were his hymns—his hymns translated into Chinese. They are going into all the world—all around the world.”
Rev. Dr. Goodwin said that it was a joyful thought that, though dead, the brother’s work had just begun.
A little time ago a friend from South Africa had written how he stopped for a night’s rest in the Zulu country, when Brother Bliss’ song, “Hold the Fort,” burst upon his ear from a company of natives. Just so his influence for good would spread and increase.
Some of his songs seem to be almost prophetic of his death. The last one which he sang in the Tabernacle just before starting for the East was one which will always be associated with his name:
I know not the hour when my Lord will comeTo take me away to His own dear home,But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom,And that will be glory for me!I know not the song that the angels sing,I know not the sound of the harp’s glad ring,But I know there’ll be mention of Jesus our King,And that will be music for me.I know not the form of my mansion fair,I know not the name that I then shall bear,But I know that my Saviour will welcome me there,And that will be heaven for me.
I know not the hour when my Lord will comeTo take me away to His own dear home,But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom,And that will be glory for me!I know not the song that the angels sing,I know not the sound of the harp’s glad ring,But I know there’ll be mention of Jesus our King,And that will be music for me.I know not the form of my mansion fair,I know not the name that I then shall bear,But I know that my Saviour will welcome me there,And that will be heaven for me.
I know not the hour when my Lord will comeTo take me away to His own dear home,But I know that His presence will lighten the gloom,And that will be glory for me!
I know not the song that the angels sing,I know not the sound of the harp’s glad ring,But I know there’ll be mention of Jesus our King,And that will be music for me.
I know not the form of my mansion fair,I know not the name that I then shall bear,But I know that my Saviour will welcome me there,And that will be heaven for me.
Another has been spoken of by a friend as also prophetic even of the manner of his death,although it was composed on the occasion of that other fire which consumed his home and the homes of thousands of others in the doomed city. It reads:
Hark! the alarm, the clang of the bells!Signal of danger, it rises and swells!Flashes like lightning illumine the sky,See the red glare as the flames mount on high!Chorus—Roll on, roll on, O billows of fire!Dash with thy fiery waves higher and higher;Ours is a mission abiding and sure—Ours is a kingdom eternal, secure.On like a fiend in its towering wrath,On, and destruction alone points the path;Mercy, O heaven! the sufferers wail;Feeble humanity naught can avail.
Hark! the alarm, the clang of the bells!Signal of danger, it rises and swells!Flashes like lightning illumine the sky,See the red glare as the flames mount on high!Chorus—Roll on, roll on, O billows of fire!Dash with thy fiery waves higher and higher;Ours is a mission abiding and sure—Ours is a kingdom eternal, secure.On like a fiend in its towering wrath,On, and destruction alone points the path;Mercy, O heaven! the sufferers wail;Feeble humanity naught can avail.
Hark! the alarm, the clang of the bells!Signal of danger, it rises and swells!Flashes like lightning illumine the sky,See the red glare as the flames mount on high!
Chorus—Roll on, roll on, O billows of fire!Dash with thy fiery waves higher and higher;Ours is a mission abiding and sure—Ours is a kingdom eternal, secure.
On like a fiend in its towering wrath,On, and destruction alone points the path;Mercy, O heaven! the sufferers wail;Feeble humanity naught can avail.
The manner of Mr. Bliss’ death was remarkable. He had been with his wife to the home of his parents in Towanda, Pa., where his children were staying, but as he had an appointment at Chicago for the Sabbath, he hastened to return.
Kissing the children a last farewell he left Rome, Pa., and took the Erie train at Waverly, for Chicago. His last stop was at Hornellsville, where the strange presentiments came upon him which were so near to persuading him to forsake the ill-fated train and take another route.
Then came that ride over the Lake Shore and the awful plunge into the chasm at Ashtabula. His wife was with him. “United in life they were not divided in death.”
It is said that but a short time before, the good man was seen reading his Bible, and at the hour of his death was quietly composing a hymn. The two died together as the fatal flames approached, giving their lives as a song which should reach the better land.
Like martyrs they died singing their songs of faith, at least in their hearts, and together sharing the baptism of fire.
Memorial services were held in the Tabernacle at Chicago, where he was expected on the following Sabbath, at which Mr. Moody, Mr. Sankey, Rev. Dr. Goodwin, and Rev. Dr. Thompson took part. The Tabernacle was appropriately draped and the exercises were very impressive.
The funeral services were held at Towanda, Pa., the home of his mother, on Sabbath, January 7th. Rev. Dr. Goodwin, of Chicago, preached the sermon, and Major D. W. Whittle gave an address full of interesting reminiscences, whichbrought tears to the eyes of many. At its close Mr. Bliss’ last hymn, found among his papers and entitled “He Knows,” was sung. “It breathed the full spirit of his life.”
So I go on in the dark, not knowing—I would not if I might—I would rather walk with God in the darkThan walk alone in the light;I would rather walk with Him by faithThan walk alone by sight.
So I go on in the dark, not knowing—I would not if I might—I would rather walk with God in the darkThan walk alone in the light;I would rather walk with Him by faithThan walk alone by sight.
So I go on in the dark, not knowing—I would not if I might—I would rather walk with God in the darkThan walk alone in the light;I would rather walk with Him by faithThan walk alone by sight.
Rev. Dr. Goodwin in speaking of this funeral, afterward said that he thanked God he had the privilege of going to it. “Not a shadow had come over his face or the face of the friends whom he went to see.
“There was the gray-haired grandmother of eighty-three years, her face already shining with the light of the Heaven to which she was so near. When the news was told her she said, ‘Only a step has Philip gone in advance of me.’ The parents of Mrs. Bliss walked calm, without a murmur, through the valley of the shadow.
“Of the thirty or forty relatives, with but one exception, all, old and young, accepted Jesus Christ as the foundation upon which they stood.The faces of these bereaved ones shone as faces never shine till God comes into the heart and banishes sorrow.
“Who ever saw a funeral service turned to an inquiry meeting? Yet at that service twenty-five persons avowed their determination to serve God, and at the evening service ten or fifteen more did the same.”
MRS. P. P. BLISS.
MRS. P. P. BLISS.
Another memorial service was also held at Chicago on January 15th, at Rev. Dr. Goodwin’s church, where Mr. Bliss began his public life as a singer, and where his memory is cherished tenderly, affectionately.
The large church was crowded, nearly three thousand people present.
His pastor on this occasion paid tribute to the character of his friend. He said:
1st. “He was one of the most hopeful men I ever knew. His life was unclouded, or at least the clouds came not to tarry. Not that he was exempt from trouble. He had his share of trial, discipline, and disappointment. He knew what it was to be misapprehended—to have mean and selfish motives imputed. He knew what it was to stand by the bedside of one who was dearer tohim than life, whom he expected might at any time be called away. But his mind was in the promises of God. His heart was above the clouds and was assured of the truth. Mr. Bliss will be better known in the future as the singing pilgrim.“As he went on in the Christian life the Hallelujah grew more frequent. There are few of his songs, wherever they begin, which do not before they close, land us in the glory of the Heavenly Land. Take even ‘Light in the darkness, Sailor.’ The last verse begins, ‘Bright glorious the morning, Sailor,’ and it ends with a ‘Glory, Hallelujah.’“The second feature of his character was his peculiar benevolence.“I know not what proportion he set aside, but I have known the fund to amount to $1,000 in six months. He was unselfish in everything. His devotion was always fervent. When our old church was burning, Mr. Bliss pointed to the cross that surmounted the gable and to the great front window illuminated by the flames and asked a member of the Sunday-school, ‘Why will you not come over to us on the side of the cross? It never looked to me more beautiful than it does now, high above the flames, surrounded by stars, and it is certain to have the victory.’“All these features culminated in the last trait. He was the gospel singer of the age.“Why is it that while so many hymns pass out of mind, some, like ‘Rock of Ages,’ ‘Just as I am,’ ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’ have become the hymns of the Christian church? Is it not because the words of God’s truth, and especially of the Gospel, are in them? You do not read John Wesley’s sermons but you sing Charles Wesley’s hymns. Recall some of Mr. Bliss’ hymns,—‘I am so glad that Jesus loves me,’ ‘No other name is given.’ There is not in the range of English hymnology one writer who put God’s truth into song with the power and sweetness that Mr. Bliss has.“You remember the story of Mr. Latimer, how he wandered drunk into the Tabernacle and was so aroused by Mr. Sankey singing, ‘What shall the harvest be.’“Throngs and throngs are yet to go up from this world to testify that the songs inspired of God while Mr. Bliss was on his knees led them to Christ.”The “Advance,” of Chicago, contains the following: “It takes much from the sadness of the singer’s awful death that his life was so rounded and complete. His work had been so well done that death could not surprise him and find himwith his mission unaccomplished. He had made his mark, and the mark will remain. His life has stopped, but his work goes on; in every church and in every home all over the world, and years from now, when even his name may be lost, his songs will still continue to inspire faltering men and women with courage, to bring consolation into the house of mourning, to arouse faith in the human heart. For such a life, so perfect, so successful, so far-reaching in its influences, spent in the most beneficent of labor and lost at the post of duty, there should be no tears. Other voices will take up his strains, and the work will go on without stop. Their simple beauty is not marred, nor is their wonderful influence upon the popular heart lessened by his death. Noble and impressive in his physique, affable and genial in his contact with every one, earnest and untiring in his work, he will long be missed as a leader in the evangelical movement which is now stirring the popular heart; but he has left his impress upon the world, with results more lasting than the work achieved by heroes of the battle-field or masters of state-craft. His harp is forever silent; his voice is forever hushed; but the songs which he sang can never die. Their melody, like the brook, goes on forever.”
1st. “He was one of the most hopeful men I ever knew. His life was unclouded, or at least the clouds came not to tarry. Not that he was exempt from trouble. He had his share of trial, discipline, and disappointment. He knew what it was to be misapprehended—to have mean and selfish motives imputed. He knew what it was to stand by the bedside of one who was dearer tohim than life, whom he expected might at any time be called away. But his mind was in the promises of God. His heart was above the clouds and was assured of the truth. Mr. Bliss will be better known in the future as the singing pilgrim.
“As he went on in the Christian life the Hallelujah grew more frequent. There are few of his songs, wherever they begin, which do not before they close, land us in the glory of the Heavenly Land. Take even ‘Light in the darkness, Sailor.’ The last verse begins, ‘Bright glorious the morning, Sailor,’ and it ends with a ‘Glory, Hallelujah.’
“The second feature of his character was his peculiar benevolence.
“I know not what proportion he set aside, but I have known the fund to amount to $1,000 in six months. He was unselfish in everything. His devotion was always fervent. When our old church was burning, Mr. Bliss pointed to the cross that surmounted the gable and to the great front window illuminated by the flames and asked a member of the Sunday-school, ‘Why will you not come over to us on the side of the cross? It never looked to me more beautiful than it does now, high above the flames, surrounded by stars, and it is certain to have the victory.’
“All these features culminated in the last trait. He was the gospel singer of the age.
“Why is it that while so many hymns pass out of mind, some, like ‘Rock of Ages,’ ‘Just as I am,’ ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’ have become the hymns of the Christian church? Is it not because the words of God’s truth, and especially of the Gospel, are in them? You do not read John Wesley’s sermons but you sing Charles Wesley’s hymns. Recall some of Mr. Bliss’ hymns,—‘I am so glad that Jesus loves me,’ ‘No other name is given.’ There is not in the range of English hymnology one writer who put God’s truth into song with the power and sweetness that Mr. Bliss has.
“You remember the story of Mr. Latimer, how he wandered drunk into the Tabernacle and was so aroused by Mr. Sankey singing, ‘What shall the harvest be.’
“Throngs and throngs are yet to go up from this world to testify that the songs inspired of God while Mr. Bliss was on his knees led them to Christ.”
The “Advance,” of Chicago, contains the following: “It takes much from the sadness of the singer’s awful death that his life was so rounded and complete. His work had been so well done that death could not surprise him and find himwith his mission unaccomplished. He had made his mark, and the mark will remain. His life has stopped, but his work goes on; in every church and in every home all over the world, and years from now, when even his name may be lost, his songs will still continue to inspire faltering men and women with courage, to bring consolation into the house of mourning, to arouse faith in the human heart. For such a life, so perfect, so successful, so far-reaching in its influences, spent in the most beneficent of labor and lost at the post of duty, there should be no tears. Other voices will take up his strains, and the work will go on without stop. Their simple beauty is not marred, nor is their wonderful influence upon the popular heart lessened by his death. Noble and impressive in his physique, affable and genial in his contact with every one, earnest and untiring in his work, he will long be missed as a leader in the evangelical movement which is now stirring the popular heart; but he has left his impress upon the world, with results more lasting than the work achieved by heroes of the battle-field or masters of state-craft. His harp is forever silent; his voice is forever hushed; but the songs which he sang can never die. Their melody, like the brook, goes on forever.”
Thefollowing is the testimony of some of the more important witnesses before the Coroner’s Jury. It is taken from the short hand report made at the time, but abridged as much as possible.
MR. A. L. ROGERS TESTIFIES:I was foreman of the raising of the bridge; superintended the screwing of nuts to bring the strain upon the vertical rods; Amasa Stone examined it and said my part of the work was well done; after knocking out the blocks, the bridge settled six inches; it settled gradually as we put in thinner blocks and took them out to put in still thinner ones; it was not in use during this time; Mr. Stone then decided to reconstruct the bridge, by changing the position of certain irons and braces; the bridge was constructed after this design, with one exception; the struts running from the bottom cord to the middle of the firstpair of braces were not put in till afterward; a change was made in the arrangement of the upper cords, which were shortened; after these changes Mr. Stone examined it without taking out the blocks, and pronounced it good; the false work remained in position from October, 1865, to November, 1866.Cross-examined—When the bridge was first put up, it settled, and I made the remark that if it kept on, it would go into the creek; perhaps I told it to half a dozen others; said it was not Mr. Collins’ bridge, but Mr. Stone’s; said the bridge had cost a great deal of money, but don’t recollect saying it would cost the company a great deal more; was discouraged because the bridge acted so, and that I couldn’t see how to remedy it; remember all this was before the modifications were made; Mr. Congdon was with Mr. Stone when the bridge was examined; the plan of changing the braces was then adopted.Mr. Albert Congdon, testified as follows: At the time of the construction of this bridge I was employed by the Lake Shore Road as master machinist; knew something about the construction of this bridge, as I had charge of the work in making the bridge; found a lack of material to fill the place for which it was designed; told Mr. Thompson about it, and he wanted to knowif he had better let Mr. Stone know it; told him he had better; a short time afterward I was told to take the plans and finish the construction of the bridge as I thought it should be done; do not know how far the work had progressed at the time I assumed control; the braces were not marked so as to designate the position they were to occupy; never calculated the strength of the tension of compression members; did not say much to Mr. Tomlinson or any other man about the bridge, as I did not consider myself a competent bridge man; from the time of Mr. Tomlinson leaving, I had the management of constructing the bridge; Mr. Rogers told me that Mr. Stone had given him orders to erect it, but he did not know how; I asked him why he did not go and tell Mr. Stone so, and he said that he did not like to; I then told him as much as I knew.
MR. A. L. ROGERS TESTIFIES:
I was foreman of the raising of the bridge; superintended the screwing of nuts to bring the strain upon the vertical rods; Amasa Stone examined it and said my part of the work was well done; after knocking out the blocks, the bridge settled six inches; it settled gradually as we put in thinner blocks and took them out to put in still thinner ones; it was not in use during this time; Mr. Stone then decided to reconstruct the bridge, by changing the position of certain irons and braces; the bridge was constructed after this design, with one exception; the struts running from the bottom cord to the middle of the firstpair of braces were not put in till afterward; a change was made in the arrangement of the upper cords, which were shortened; after these changes Mr. Stone examined it without taking out the blocks, and pronounced it good; the false work remained in position from October, 1865, to November, 1866.
Cross-examined—When the bridge was first put up, it settled, and I made the remark that if it kept on, it would go into the creek; perhaps I told it to half a dozen others; said it was not Mr. Collins’ bridge, but Mr. Stone’s; said the bridge had cost a great deal of money, but don’t recollect saying it would cost the company a great deal more; was discouraged because the bridge acted so, and that I couldn’t see how to remedy it; remember all this was before the modifications were made; Mr. Congdon was with Mr. Stone when the bridge was examined; the plan of changing the braces was then adopted.
Mr. Albert Congdon, testified as follows: At the time of the construction of this bridge I was employed by the Lake Shore Road as master machinist; knew something about the construction of this bridge, as I had charge of the work in making the bridge; found a lack of material to fill the place for which it was designed; told Mr. Thompson about it, and he wanted to knowif he had better let Mr. Stone know it; told him he had better; a short time afterward I was told to take the plans and finish the construction of the bridge as I thought it should be done; do not know how far the work had progressed at the time I assumed control; the braces were not marked so as to designate the position they were to occupy; never calculated the strength of the tension of compression members; did not say much to Mr. Tomlinson or any other man about the bridge, as I did not consider myself a competent bridge man; from the time of Mr. Tomlinson leaving, I had the management of constructing the bridge; Mr. Rogers told me that Mr. Stone had given him orders to erect it, but he did not know how; I asked him why he did not go and tell Mr. Stone so, and he said that he did not like to; I then told him as much as I knew.
Testimony of the man who drew the plans for the Ashtabula bridge.
Joseph Tomlinson is sworn. Resides in Ottawa, Ont. Is General Superintendent of Lighthouses in the employ of the Canadian Government. Was engaged in bridge-building from 1840 to 1870. He made the drawings for the iron Howe truss bridge over Ashtabula Creek—the one which had lately fallen. He did thisunder instructions from Mr. Stone. He never approved of a wrought-iron Howe truss over a large span. It makes an unnecessarily heavy bridge, and all the strain accumulates at the end braces. Notwithstanding its weight, it would have been a strong, durable bridge had the main braces been sufficiently strong. They were not made as large as designed, and it was his intention that they should be strengthened, but his connection with the Company was severed on account of a difference that arose between himself and Mr. Stone concerning the bridge.
Joseph Tomlinson is sworn. Resides in Ottawa, Ont. Is General Superintendent of Lighthouses in the employ of the Canadian Government. Was engaged in bridge-building from 1840 to 1870. He made the drawings for the iron Howe truss bridge over Ashtabula Creek—the one which had lately fallen. He did thisunder instructions from Mr. Stone. He never approved of a wrought-iron Howe truss over a large span. It makes an unnecessarily heavy bridge, and all the strain accumulates at the end braces. Notwithstanding its weight, it would have been a strong, durable bridge had the main braces been sufficiently strong. They were not made as large as designed, and it was his intention that they should be strengthened, but his connection with the Company was severed on account of a difference that arose between himself and Mr. Stone concerning the bridge.
Mr. A. Gottlieb, engineer of the Keystone Bridge Company, at Pittsburg, Pa., was next called. He testified as follows:
When the wrecked bridge was constructed, the building of iron truss bridges was in its childhood, compared with the progress made since that time.The first objectionable point in the bridge, therefore, was the unnecessarily great dead weight; the second, the lack of sufficient section in the upper cord; also the manner in which the beams forming said cord were bound together, which brought much more strain on some of them than on others.I have made a careful examination of thewrecked bridge as it lay at the bottom of the river, and also of the map of the bridge as made by Mr. Tomlinson, and I think that I have obtained a very good idea of the construction of the wrecked bridge. I do not think that the Howe truss pattern is very well adapted to a heavy iron bridge. During my examination I did not see anything in the plan or construction of the bridge that would lead me to think that the extremes of heat or cold would injure it. I never knew of any other wrought iron bridge constructed on the Howe truss pattern.
When the wrecked bridge was constructed, the building of iron truss bridges was in its childhood, compared with the progress made since that time.
The first objectionable point in the bridge, therefore, was the unnecessarily great dead weight; the second, the lack of sufficient section in the upper cord; also the manner in which the beams forming said cord were bound together, which brought much more strain on some of them than on others.
I have made a careful examination of thewrecked bridge as it lay at the bottom of the river, and also of the map of the bridge as made by Mr. Tomlinson, and I think that I have obtained a very good idea of the construction of the wrecked bridge. I do not think that the Howe truss pattern is very well adapted to a heavy iron bridge. During my examination I did not see anything in the plan or construction of the bridge that would lead me to think that the extremes of heat or cold would injure it. I never knew of any other wrought iron bridge constructed on the Howe truss pattern.
Before the committee appointed by the Legislature of Ohio, the following testimony was also given by Mr. Amasa Stone, the former President of the Road:
Mr. Stone swore that he designed the bridge, but only superintended the drawing of the plan, while the details of construction were given into the hands of Mr. Albert Congdon, who was supervised by Mr. Joseph Tomlinson.I have never constructed any other Howe truss bridge with wrought-iron braces, and know of no other anywhere in the country. When Mr. Rogers made the mistake of putting in the braces it was not negligence in permitting him to continue the superintendence of the erection of the bridge,for there was no other particular in which he could have made a mistake. It was not even unwise to permit him to continue. When the bridge was changed in correcting the mistake there were no more braces inserted.
Mr. Stone swore that he designed the bridge, but only superintended the drawing of the plan, while the details of construction were given into the hands of Mr. Albert Congdon, who was supervised by Mr. Joseph Tomlinson.
I have never constructed any other Howe truss bridge with wrought-iron braces, and know of no other anywhere in the country. When Mr. Rogers made the mistake of putting in the braces it was not negligence in permitting him to continue the superintendence of the erection of the bridge,for there was no other particular in which he could have made a mistake. It was not even unwise to permit him to continue. When the bridge was changed in correcting the mistake there were no more braces inserted.
Chas. Collins, the engineer of the road, testified before the same committee, as follows:
About the time the bridge was built, my duties were so heavy I was relieved from looking after the bridge. I never mentioned to any one that the bridge was not mine and that I did not want anything to do with it, since it was placed under the charge of a bridge-man; I thought it out of place for me to say anything about it. I never knew of another bridge being built of wrought iron on this plan. I think the bridge was rather an experiment.
About the time the bridge was built, my duties were so heavy I was relieved from looking after the bridge. I never mentioned to any one that the bridge was not mine and that I did not want anything to do with it, since it was placed under the charge of a bridge-man; I thought it out of place for me to say anything about it. I never knew of another bridge being built of wrought iron on this plan. I think the bridge was rather an experiment.
Thenarrative of this great disaster is finished; space does not admit of the addition of further material.
All that remains to be said is of a religious nature. Mr. Devereaux, as representative of the friends of the Road, beautifully alluded to Moses as a Civil Engineer. So we, in conclusion, go to the word of God for the lesson of the hour.
Moses went up the mountain and received the patterns of all things which were to be made; but the Israelites were not permitted to transgress the bounds set at the base, “lest they die.” Skill in art and architecture was in those days regarded as an inspiration from God, as was proved in the case of Bezaleel, who had knowledge of all inventions.
In our day we have invaded the region ofstorms, and have thought to seize the forces which belong to the Almighty; but the result has been death—death unforseen, unexpected, appalling, heartrending. Men have found by hard experience that it is dangerous to lay hold of these grand elements of nature. Until they have become more reverent, conscientious, God-fearing and unselfish, they are not fit to enter the dangerous precincts where the Almighty dwells. In some way, even if knowledge is attained, the sin and selfishness of men will bring the lightnings and the fire out of the mountain, and men shall surely die.
The great forces of nature have a sacredness about them, and the laws of the universe an inviolability, which will admit of no wantonness or careless handling for selfish ends. But until a sense of accountability to God prevails, the safety of property and of human life cannot be secured. No coroner’s jury, no legislative committee, no congressional enactment, will make men realize how sacred are many of these responsibilities of life. The haste to get rich and the desire to make men serve the purpose of money-getting, and the control over many to the enrichment of the few, will destroy the sense of accountability and blind men, so that they run profanely into the very place where God has the hidings of his power, but the result is that they do not know how to handle the lightnings and to control the storms, and they are appalled at the calamities which their own temerity has brought down.
The people must understand that with all this control over the elements, the increase of knowledge and power, there is no safety anywhere except in God. It is sad that this lesson has to be impressed by many deaths when it is taught by every one. The terrible experiences of many, concentrate because we will not listen to the hints given gently to each of us. The storms and hurricanes and great shocks and calamities and horrid deaths, come because we will not listen to wisdom; and yet God is not in the storm or in the earthquake, but is in the still small voice.
It is indeed well to say that safety must be secured, selfishness shall be rebuked, laws should be studied, skill employed, this blundering, heedless, reckless mode of life must be stopped; butwhere in all the advance of art and education, has there appeared immunity from accidents or safety from death. No, with all the conservatism which may be advocated, with all the plans for skilled labor and with all the attainment of knowledge, is there not need of that which God alone can give, even the bringing in of a better hope.
If there were no vanities, errors, or perversities to bring destruction from out the elements which men have not learned to control, even then death would come. There must be a higher life which is not subject to the destructive forces. The mercy of God and the deliverance wrought out for us by His Son has respect as much to the material creation as to the moral state. In some way we shall attain to a further control of the unseen forces and shall know more of the great laws of God. But happy are we if the death which must come, shall be like that of Moses, who, after his long wanderings and faithful discharge of duty, went up Mount Pisgah and looked over the promised inheritance to which the people should enter, but he himself took up his dwelling place with God.
“It is from a careful consideration of the evidence elicited from professionals and experts that our verdict is made up in the matter of the bridge, and should it seem severe upon the railway company, or upon any of its past or present officials, it is because the truth, as shown by the evidence, demands it at our hands. We cannot do less and feel that we have discharged our duty. Mr. Amasa Stone, President of the company at the time of the erection of this structure, had been for years a prominent and successful railroad contractor and builder of wooden Howe truss bridges. With the undoubted intention of building a strong, safe, and durable wrought-iron bridge, upon the Howe truss plan, he designed the structure, dictated the drawing of the plans and the erection of the bridge, without the approval of any competent engineer, and against the protest of the man who made the drawings under Mr. Stone’s direction, assuming the sole and entire responsibility himself. Iron bridges were then in their infancy, and this one was an experiment which ought never to have been tried or trusted to span so broad and so deep a chasm. This experiment has been at a fearful cost of human life and human suffering. Unquestionably, Mr. Stone had great confidence in his own abilities, and believed he could build and had built a structure which would prove the crowning glory of an active life and an enduring monument to his name. That the officials of the railroad regarded the bridge as safe we have no doubt, as two of them were on the train that went down, and all were more or less frequently passing over it. That the fall of the bridge was the result of defects and errors made in designing, constructing, and erecting it. That a great defect, and one which appears in many parts of the structure, was the dependence of every member for its efficientaction upon the probability that all or nearly all the others would retain their position and do the duty for which they were designed, instead of giving each member a positive connection with the rest, which nothing but a direct rupture could sever. That the railway company used and continued to use this bridge about eleven years, during all which time a careful inspection by a competent bridge engineer could not have failed to discover the defects. For the neglect of such careful inspection, the railway company alone is responsible. That the responsibility of this fearful disaster and its consequent loss of life rests upon the railway company, which, by its chief executive officer, planned and erected this bridge; that the cars in which the deceased passengers were carried into the chasm, were not heated by heating apparatus so constructed that the fire in them would be immediately extinguished whenever the cars were thrown from the track and overturned; that their failure to comply with the plain requirements of the law places the responsibility of the origin of the fire upon the railway company; that the responsibility for not putting out the fire at the time it first made its appearance in the wreck, rests upon those who were the first to arrive at the scene of the disaster, and who seemed to have been so overwhelmed by the fearful calamity that they lost all presence of mind, and failed to use the means at hand, consisting of the steam pump in the pumping-house and the fire engine Lake Erie and its hose, which might have been attached to the steam pump in time to save life. The steamer belonging to the Fire Department, and also the Protection fire engine, were hauled more than a mile through a blinding snow-storm, and over roads rendered almost impassable by the drifted snow, and arrived on the ground too late to save human life; but nothing should have prevented the Chief Engineer from making all possible efforts to extinguish what fire there remained. For his failure to do this he is responsible. The persons deceased, whose bodies were identified and those whose bodies and parts of bodies were unidentified came to their death by the precipitation of the aforesaid cars, in which they were riding, into the chasm in the valley of Ashtabula creek, left by the falling of the bridge, as aforesaid; the crushing and burning of cars aforesaid, for all of which the railway company is responsible.”
“It is from a careful consideration of the evidence elicited from professionals and experts that our verdict is made up in the matter of the bridge, and should it seem severe upon the railway company, or upon any of its past or present officials, it is because the truth, as shown by the evidence, demands it at our hands. We cannot do less and feel that we have discharged our duty. Mr. Amasa Stone, President of the company at the time of the erection of this structure, had been for years a prominent and successful railroad contractor and builder of wooden Howe truss bridges. With the undoubted intention of building a strong, safe, and durable wrought-iron bridge, upon the Howe truss plan, he designed the structure, dictated the drawing of the plans and the erection of the bridge, without the approval of any competent engineer, and against the protest of the man who made the drawings under Mr. Stone’s direction, assuming the sole and entire responsibility himself. Iron bridges were then in their infancy, and this one was an experiment which ought never to have been tried or trusted to span so broad and so deep a chasm. This experiment has been at a fearful cost of human life and human suffering. Unquestionably, Mr. Stone had great confidence in his own abilities, and believed he could build and had built a structure which would prove the crowning glory of an active life and an enduring monument to his name. That the officials of the railroad regarded the bridge as safe we have no doubt, as two of them were on the train that went down, and all were more or less frequently passing over it. That the fall of the bridge was the result of defects and errors made in designing, constructing, and erecting it. That a great defect, and one which appears in many parts of the structure, was the dependence of every member for its efficientaction upon the probability that all or nearly all the others would retain their position and do the duty for which they were designed, instead of giving each member a positive connection with the rest, which nothing but a direct rupture could sever. That the railway company used and continued to use this bridge about eleven years, during all which time a careful inspection by a competent bridge engineer could not have failed to discover the defects. For the neglect of such careful inspection, the railway company alone is responsible. That the responsibility of this fearful disaster and its consequent loss of life rests upon the railway company, which, by its chief executive officer, planned and erected this bridge; that the cars in which the deceased passengers were carried into the chasm, were not heated by heating apparatus so constructed that the fire in them would be immediately extinguished whenever the cars were thrown from the track and overturned; that their failure to comply with the plain requirements of the law places the responsibility of the origin of the fire upon the railway company; that the responsibility for not putting out the fire at the time it first made its appearance in the wreck, rests upon those who were the first to arrive at the scene of the disaster, and who seemed to have been so overwhelmed by the fearful calamity that they lost all presence of mind, and failed to use the means at hand, consisting of the steam pump in the pumping-house and the fire engine Lake Erie and its hose, which might have been attached to the steam pump in time to save life. The steamer belonging to the Fire Department, and also the Protection fire engine, were hauled more than a mile through a blinding snow-storm, and over roads rendered almost impassable by the drifted snow, and arrived on the ground too late to save human life; but nothing should have prevented the Chief Engineer from making all possible efforts to extinguish what fire there remained. For his failure to do this he is responsible. The persons deceased, whose bodies were identified and those whose bodies and parts of bodies were unidentified came to their death by the precipitation of the aforesaid cars, in which they were riding, into the chasm in the valley of Ashtabula creek, left by the falling of the bridge, as aforesaid; the crushing and burning of cars aforesaid, for all of which the railway company is responsible.”