The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Ashtabula Disaster

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofThe Ashtabula DisasterThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: The Ashtabula DisasterAuthor: Stephen D. PeetRelease date: November 16, 2014 [eBook #47359]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Charlie Howard and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ASHTABULA DISASTER ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: The Ashtabula DisasterAuthor: Stephen D. PeetRelease date: November 16, 2014 [eBook #47359]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Charlie Howard and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)

Title: The Ashtabula Disaster

Author: Stephen D. Peet

Release date: November 16, 2014 [eBook #47359]Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Charlie Howard and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file wasproduced from images generously made available by TheInternet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ASHTABULA DISASTER ***

Cover created by Transcriber, using an illustration from the original book, and placed in the Public Domain.

BYRev. Stephen D. Peet,OF ASHTABULA, OHIO.

ILLUSTRATED.

CHICAGO, ILL.:J. S. Goodman—Louis Lloyd & Co.London, Ont.: J. M. Chute & Co.1877.

Ottaway & Colbert,Printers,147 & 149 Fifth Ave., Chicago.

Blomgren Bros. & Co.,Electrotypers,162 & 164 Clark St., Chicago.

The narrative of the greatest railroad disaster on record is a task which has been undertaken in the following pages. No event has awakened more wide-spread interest for many years, and the calamity will not cease to have its effect for a long time to come. The author has had unusual facilities for knowing the particulars, and has undertaken the record of them on this account. A familiarity with the locality, the place and the citizens, personal observation on the spot during the night, and a critical examination of the wreck before it was removed in the morning gave him an exact knowledge of the accident which few possessed. This, followed by intercourse with the survivors, with the friends of the deceased, and the representatives of the press, and by correspondence, which resulted from his assistance in identifying bodies, and searching for relics, all added to his acquaintance with the event and its consequences. The author is, however, happy in making an acknowledgment of assistance from the thorough investigation of the coroner’s jury, from the faithful presentation of facts by the reporters of the press, especially those of the “Inter-Ocean” and the “Cleveland Leader,” also from the pictures taken by the artist Frederick Blakeslee, and from the articles published and sent by various friends, which contained sermons, sketches and biographical notices. He has to acknowledge also encouragements received from Capt T. E. Truworthy of California, and his publishers J. S. Goodman and Louis Lloyd & Co.

The discussions before the country in reference to the cause of this accident, the author has not undertaken to give. These have been contained in the “Railroad Gazette,” the “Railway Age,” the “Springfield Republican,” the New York and Chicago dailies, and many other papers.

Prominent engineers, such as C. P. Buckingham, Clemans Herschel, E. C. Davis, L. H. Clark, Col. C. R. Morton, E. S. Cheseborough, Edward S. Philbrick, D. V. Wood, F. R. Smith and many others have passed their opinion upon it.

The accident at first seemed to involve the question of the use of iron for bridges, and whether the European system was not better than the American, and a comment upon this was given by Charles Collins, when he testified that $25,000 more would have erected a stone bridge. Yet as the discussions continued, the conclusion seems to have been reached that riveted iron bridges might be safe if properly constructed, and the engineers appointed by the State Legislature of Ohio, reported that they “find nothing in this case to justify our popular apprehension that there may be some inherent defect in iron as a material for bridges. We find no evidence of weakness in this bridge, which could not have been discovered and prevented.”

The erection of iron bridges with the trusses all below the track as contrasted with so-called “through” bridges has also been discussed. In this case the tendency to “buckling” where the track is supported by iron braces rather than suspended from them was most apparent, for engineer Gottleib testified there was not a single brace which was not buckled.

The danger from derailment and the fearful result which must follow in high bridges like this is sufficient argument for the addition of guards, or some other means to prevent trains from going off.

These questions, however, are for railroad engineers to settle. The responsibility of the railroad companies to the American public is a point more important. The “Iron Age,” speaking of this disaster says, “it is a disquieting accident.” It says also that: “We know there are plenty of cheap, badly built bridges, which the engineers are watching with anxious fears, and which, to all appearance, only stand by the grace of God.”

The “Nation” of Feb. 15th says: “By such disasters and by shipwreck are lives in these days sacrificed by the score, and yet except through the clumsy machinery of a coroner’s jury, hardly any where in America is there the slightest provision made for inquiry into them.

“Here are wholesale killings. In four cases out of five some one is responsible for them; there was a carelessness somewhere, or a false economy has been practised, or a defective discipline maintained, or some appliances of safety dispensed with, or some one has run for luck and taken his chances.”

It may be said of this case that the coroner’s jury were as thorough and faithful in their investigation as the American public could ask; and yet from the class of reporters who conveyed so inadequately the results of that investigation from day to day no one was any wiser. The conclusion, however, has been reached, and the verdict corresponds with the evidence given in this book.

We have no space to give to the harsh words that have been spoken. These have come not only from the bereaved friends, but from papers of high standing, among manufacturers and others.

The accident has been bad enough, and the decision of the coroner’s jury sufficiently condemning. The action of the State Legislature has also made it a matter of investigation.

The letter of Charles Francis Adams also called attentionto a demand for a Railroad commission, and the subject has not been left, as the “Nation” intimates that it might, to a coroner’s jury, nor even to a legislative committee, but an enactment of Congress has already passed to bring the subject before the Committee on Railroads.

Doubtless the results will be, increased safety of travel, and the holding of railroad corporations to a strict account by the authority of law, for all accidents which may be caused by the want of skillful engineering or proper management. The Westenhouse brake may have caused the projectile force of the whole train to have fallen upon the centre of the defective bridge, but is there not some way of stopping trains from plunging entirely down into these fearful chasms?

Increased appliances for stopping trains, proper precautions in putting out fires, the frequent inspection of bridges, some method of keeping a strict account of the numbers on the train will be required.

The object of this book, however, has not been to discuss these points. As will be seen by the narrative, the religious lessons of the occasion are made most prominent.

The author’s sympathies were early called forth; access to the survivors enlisted all his sensibilities; correspondence also showed how much need of consolation there was; and the book was prepared under the shadow of the great horror; but if the reader shall find the same comfort from a view of the lovely characters and the Christian hopes which span this dark cloud with a bow of promise, the author will consider that his mission has been accomplished.

Thescene of this direful event is situated on the Lake Shore Railway, midway between the cities of Cleveland and Erie, and about two miles from Lake Erie.

The village itself contains nearly thirty-five hundred inhabitants. At the mouth of the river is another small village, making in all a population of nearly four thousand. Between these points of the village and harbor many families of the poorer classes have made their homes, the most of them being Swedes, Germans and Irish. There are a few fine residences in this part of the town, but the homes of the more prominent citizens are at least a mile away. Near the depot there are several small places of business, two or three saloons, three hotels: The American House,the Culver House, and the Eagle Hotel, kept by Patrick Mulligan. It was one of the worst places for a railroad disaster. Near the depot, not six hundred yards away to the eastward, was a deep and lonely gorge. Across this the ill-fated bridge was hung. It was just at the point where the trains from the East were likely to slacken speed. Below that bridge the stream ran darkly. The only access to the gorge was by a long flight of stairs which was at the time of the calamity covered with a deep bank of snow. No road existed to it, and the spot could be reached by teams, only as a track was broken through gardens and down steep banks and across the valley and along the stream. A solitary building was in this gorge. It was the engine house. Here were the massive boiler and engine which were used for pumping water from the stream to the heights above, and so to the tanks at either side of the station house, in the distance. Situated close by the river, and almost under the shadow of the bridge itself, this lone house became to the wrecked travelers a refuge from the fire and storm. On the heights above towardsthe depot, another engine house was situated. It was the place where the “Lake Erie,” a hand fire engine stood. Two cisterns for the supply of water were located near, one on either side of the railroad track. It is difficult to picture a place more retired and lonely than this gorge. So near the busy station and yet isolated, inaccessible, and seldom visited. Its distance from the village, and the nature of the surroundings, will account for many things which occurred on that awful night; but it is a strange tale we have to tell. In the midst of the habitations of men untold sufferings took place, and the loss of life and fearful burning.

The fire department consisted of three companies, two at the village and one at the depot. There was only one steamer, and that was a mile from the depot. These companies were under the control of the chief fireman, Mr. G. W. Knapp, who is a tinner by trade, and a man slow and lymphatic in temperament, and one who, for a long time, had been addicted to the constant use of intoxicating liquors; a man every way unfit for so trying an emergency. The re-organizationof the fire department had begun. Many intelligent and prominent citizens were members of it, but these had not been successful in securing the removal of the chief, as several years of association had made many of the fireman satisfied with his services. It was unfortunate that the control was at the time in such incompetent hands, but no one could have anticipated such an event, and no emergency had heretofore shown the necessity for a change.

THE OLD BRIDGE.[From a Photograph by T. T. Sweeny, Cleveland.]

THE OLD BRIDGE.

[From a Photograph by T. T. Sweeny, Cleveland.]

TheAshtabula river is a shallow stream which runs through the county and the town. As it approaches the lake it widens and deepens into what constitutes the harbor.

The banks lining the valley of it are high and rocky precipices. They form in the rear or to the southward of the town a gorge which is called, by the inhabitants, by the significant name “the gulf.” Near the depot this gorge widens, and its banks become less precipitous; but, even at this point, the river flows at least seventy-six feet below the level of the road, and is four feet deep. Here the fatal, but far-famed, bridge was built. A grade on an arched viaduct conveyed the track to the abutments, but these stood by themselves, straight from the bottom of the gorge, two lofty pillars of stone seventy-six feethigh and just wide enough for the two tracks of the road. Flanking these were the lower and smaller abutments of an older bridge, left standing, but, for a long time, unused. The span of the bridge across this gorge, from abutment to abutment, was the unusual length of one hundred and fifty feet. The bridge was very high, and loomed up in the distance, tall and dark and gloomy.

Travelers by the wagon road, at a distance up the river a mile away, would stop and look at this structure, apparently built high in air, and watch the cars as they passed in bold relief against the sky, almost as if a spectre train were traversing the blue vault above.

It was a dizzy height. There was something almost fearful in the sight. The recklessness of danger impressed the observer. As the full outline marked itself against the sky, the fascination at times almost reached a sense of the sublime.

Here, then, was the bridge suspended high in air, lofty and tall and dark, a mysterious thing. It was not an arch lifting high its springing sides,it was not a set of beams supported by abutments below; it was a web of iron netted and braced and bolted, heavy, dark and gloomy in appearance, and proving treacherous as death.

This bridge was erected in the year 1865, by Mr. Tomlinson, according to orders and patterns given by Mr. Amasa Stone, then president of the road. It was built after the pattern of the Howe Truss, but containing some elements introduced by the president himself. It was constructed of wrought iron, with long iron braces from lower cord to upper cord twenty feet in height. There were rods stretching from top to bottom and designed to carry the strain from brace to brace. The panels were eleven feet long, and between these the strength of the cords depended on three iron beams six inches thick and eight inches wide. The whole width of the bridge was nineteen and one-half feet; its height twenty feet; its length one hundred and sixty-five feet, in a single span.

When it was first erected it was discovered that the braces were placed wrong, so that they came upon the sides rather than upon the edges.The structure settled, as the edges were removed, about six inches, and necessitated the change of the process.

This error was remedied by the cutting away of iron, so that the braces could be turned, and this change occupied nearly a year. It was watched with interest by the citizens, and was regarded by the builders themselves as a doubtful experiment.

In its erection Mr. Tomlinson, the engineer, differed with the president so much that he resigned his position, and, even Mr. Charles Collins never acknowledged that it was a work of his inventing, or a bridge receiving his approval. Before the committee, appointed by the legislature of Ohio, he acknowledged that it was an “experiment,” and even when it was in process of erection he gave no orders, but rather left the responsibility with the president.

The deficiencies of the bridge, as acknowledged by Mr. Tomlinson, who made the drafts, were that the braces were smaller than was intended, and the weight was very great. Its dead weight was 3,000 pounds to the square foot, makingan aggregate mass of iron of many tons.

The rods or braces had buckled or bent at the first trial, and there was danger that it would fall by its own weight into the creek. As it was changed, however, and the braces sprang back, by the elasticity of the iron, heavier braces were put into it, and in this shape it stood for eleven years in constant service.

Thenight was portentous. All nature conspired to make it prophetic of some direful event. The sympathy of the natural with the historic event was known and felt.

Ominous of evil, a furious storm had set in. It was one of the periodical snow storms for which the season had been remarkable. Every Saturday throughout the month it had returned, the same fearful blast and fall of snow. As if in warning, it had come three or four times during the season, and now with redoubled force appeared.

The snow had fallen all day long, and was, at the dusk of night, still falling with blinding fury. The powers of nature had seized it again, and were hurling it down as if in very vengeance against the abodes of men. Everything was coveredwith a weight of snow. The wreaths and fancy drapery which, during the first storm, had engaged the attention of children, and pleased the fancy with their forms of beauty and delicate tracery, had now increased until they were heavy blankets and burdensome loads. The feathery flakes, which at first were beds of down, had become solid banks. Everything was buried in the increasing drifts, even trees and houses and fences stood with muffled forms and burdened with a snowy mantle. The streets were covered with drifts which were piled high and wide.

No attempt had been made to break the roads. The citizens had, for the third time, confined themselves to their houses, and had not even opened the paths from the doors to the gates. It was, in fact, one of those blinding, burying storms which occasionally come upon northern homes. The greatest comfort was in being at home and having the consciousness of the home feeling. Even the cares of the world were shut out, and many had remained in doors refusing to be called from the loved circle and comfortable fire. Those who were well housed felt a pleasurein their own security, and often looked out, grateful for the shelter of their homes.

But to the traveler it was a fearful storm. The same clouds which filled the sky with their fleecy masses, became portentous to his gaze. As the dusk of night settled down with more fury in the storm, a fearful foreboding filled his heart. There were many who were impressed with this indefinable sense of danger. It was not because they felt the discomfort of the journey, nor because they unconsciously acknowledged the difficulty of the way, but a strange presentiment continually haunted them and filled them with indefinable fear. Brave hearts sank within many, as the strange feeling came over them, that there was danger in the air. It was like a pall to the soul. It rested heavily upon the spirits. Stout men had to reason with themselves to nerve themselves to undertake the journey.

This presentiment of evil was the common one. Many of the friends urged the travelers to stay and not undertake the fearful journey. Parents at Buffalo are known to have persuaded a daughter to stay until the storm was over, and onlyyielded because a light heart was so buoyant and hopeful, in the prospect of a holiday approaching.

A wife at Rochester urged a loved husband to stay, and was only comforted by the promise of a speedy return. A young husband at Erie, away from his loved wife, was sadly impressed, and discussed the question a long time with parents and friends, and only went because absence might disappoint the expectant companion, and because affection for a little babe was stronger than the fear which haunted him.

Even the sweet singer of Israel was strangely impressed, and had so far yielded to his presentiments as to persuade the ticket agent, at the station where he was waiting, to exchange tickets and to give him passage by another route, and only the sudden appearance of the train, induced him to take it instead of another.

Among the many others the same forebodings were felt, but unexpressed. As the sun went down the air grew colder. A blast from the north arose and the snow ceased falling, but the roads and paths were still unbroken. Whoever undertook to breast the storm or to pass throughthe streets, plunged deeply into the untrodden snow. Horses were kept from their accustomed duties and were comfortably stabled from the storm. Nothing was stirring, apparently; only the strong iron horse and the solitary train, which slowly made its way along the snow-covered track.

Everything was behind time. The train which was due at Erie at a little after noon, was two and a half hours late. It should have reached Ashtabula before sundown, and it was now dark and the lamps had long been burning. But the engine pushed forward. The same train which had started from New York the night before, had divided at Albany; a portion of it was plunging through the snow-drifts of the mountains of Vermont, and now another portion was struggling amid the snow near the banks of Lake Erie. Both were destined to be wrecked.

Four engines had been used to push the train from the station at Erie. Two strong locomotives were straining every nerve to push forward and overcome the deep snow.

Within the cars there were many already anxiousabout the time. It was a long and well filled train, but it was greatly behind time. Those from a distance had been delayed throughout all their journey. Those from nearer cities were impatient to meet their friends. To some a long trip across the continent became an immense and gloomy undertaking. But the passengers were making the most of the comforts of the hour. It was a little world by itself. Men, women and children were mingled together in the precious load. Clergymen, physicians, professional men, business men and travelers, young men and women, those from all classes and places were there.

In the distant east and, even, the distant west, from north and south their homes were scattered.

The continent was represented by that train. It bore the hearts of many, many friends. It was a varied company. Each one was pursuing that which best suited the varied tastes, and were beguiling the weary hours. An unusual number of parties had gathered to drive away care and weariness by card playing. At least five such parties had cards in their hands at the hour ofthe sudden calamity. Others had been beguiling the time by tales of adventure, and by relating escapes from various dangers.

In the smoking car a group was discussing the weight of the engines and the amount of water used by each engine. Ladies in the sleeping coach were preparing to retire; some had already laid down in their berths. Gentlemen were quietly dozing in their seats; others were taking their last smoke, before settling themselves for the night. Even the sweet singer had just laid aside the Sacred Word, and was quietly meditating, with a song echoing in his heart. It was just the time when every one was seeking to make himself comfortable for the night, notwithstanding the storm which raged.

A few thought of danger as they looked out into the darkness of the night, but the sense of security pervaded the train; when suddenly! the sound of the wheels was stopped; the bell-rope snapped; the lights were extinguished; and in an instant all felt themselves falling, falling, falling. An awful silence seized the passengers; each one sat breathless, bracing and seizing theseats behind or before them. Not a word was spoken; not a sound was heard—nothing except the fearful crash. The silence of the grave had come upon them. It was the fearful pause before an awful plunge. It was the palsied feeling of those who were falling into a fathomless abyss. The sensation was indescribable, awful, beyond description. It seemed an age, before they reached the bottom. None could imagine what had happened or what was next to come. All felt as if it was something most dreadful. It was like a leap into the jaws of death, and no one can tell who should escape from the fearful doom.

Thecars lay at the bottom of the gorge. That which had been such a thing of speed and a line of beauty, now lay wrecked and broken, and ready to be burned. It was indeed a beautiful train, and was well known for its elegance and beauty. At this time it consisted of two locomotives, one named “Socrates” and the other “Columbia;” two express cars, two baggage cars, two day passenger coaches, a smoking car, a drawing-room car called “Yokahama;” the New York sleeper named “Palatine;” the Boston sleeper named “City of Buffalo;” the Louisville sleeper called “Osceo.”

The bridge broke in the centre. The engineer of the Socrates suddenly heard a sharp crack, like the report of a torpedo, and looked out and saw the engine behind sinking. With greatpresence of mind he opened the throttle valve an instant, and putting on all steam drove his engine forward. It was “like going up hill,” but the Socrates reached the abutment and was safe. The Columbia, as it was drawn forward struck the abutment, and for an instant clung to its leader, held by the coupling rod, but as that broke, it fell. The first express car struck forward and downward, and landed at the foot of the abutment, while the locomotive fell on to it, completely reversed, with its headlight towards the train which it had been drawing. The other express and two baggage cars also fell to the side of the bridge, forming a line across the chasm with the rear baggage against the east abutment. The heavy iron bridge fell in the same instant with an awful crash, to the north, and lay, a great wall of iron rods and braces, ten feet high across the gorge. Singularly enough the track and top of the bridge remained long enoughin situfor the bridge to sink and sway away beneath, and then fell straight down and lay at the bottom of the stream immediately below where it rested before, but 76 feet down,in the midst of the ice and the snow and water of the stream. Upon this the first passenger coach landed in an upright position in the middle of the stream and to the left, but close by the wreck of the bridge.

The second passenger coach followed, but struck around at an angle, and turning on to its side fell among the rods and braces, and was crushed and broken in the fall. The smoker broke its couplings at both ends, struck across and through the second passenger car, smashing it in its course, and then fell upon the top of the first, crushing it down and killing many as it fell. The palace cars followed, but as they fell they leaped clear of the abutment and flew out into the air to the left of the bridge with their trucks hurled beneath them, and dropped 76 feet down and 80 feet out, and landed in the centre of the chasm.

The first drawing-room car “Yokahama” landed on the ice, and the sleeper “Palatine” beside it to the right. The sleeper “City of Buffalo,” however, as it flew through the air struck across the two, knocking the “Yokahama”on its side and crushing it in through its whole length, and landed on its forward end, with its rear end resting on the other two and high in air.

As the different cars fell, every person for the instant was stunned, and the crashing of one car on another struck many dead in an instant, while the survivors waited in suspense, expecting death would also come to them at the next blow.

The work of death was owing mostly to the fall, and to the crashing of cars and heavy trucks on bodies and limbs, and even the very hearts of many.

It was probably instantaneous to the large majority of those who perished. But a few were taken out of the wreck with any evidence of having perished from the flames which soon broke out. The wonder was that any escaped to tell the manner of their escape.

As the cars struck, splinters flew in every direction. The floor burst up from below. The seats were crushed in front and behind. The roofs were crushed from above. The sides opened and yawned, and, as one expressed it, itseemed as if every limb and sense were being scattered and only the soul was left in its solitariness.

More than one imagined that he was the only survivor, that all the rest had perished in an instant. Many thought their time had come. The thought of fire also arose in many minds, and the fear of a death that might be more dreadful than that by the crash.

Without, the wreck was strewn among the iron beams and columns of the broken bridge and scattered in terrible confusion.

Ice and water and snow were mingled with rods of iron, and heavy braces, and beams, and the debris of cars, and the bodies of men.

Danger threatened from all the elements. If they remained in the wreck, the fire threatened them with a horrid death. If they fled the fire, the water threatened to engulf them. If they escaped the water the darkness and chill of night, the storm and the awful stunning, bewildered and appalled.

The very sight of the lofty abutments towering high, impressed them with fear. The wild andlonely gorge strewn with snow and swept by the furious storm, conveyed a sense of wildness and strangeness in the extreme. It was a bewildering and an appalling scene.

As one after another of the stunned and stupefied survivors began to emerge from the broken wreck, they were dazed by the wildness of the place.

The experience of every one was different. Some dragged themselves from the debris and escaped through the broken windows, tearing clothes and flesh as they emerged. Others climbed through openings in the side or top and so made their way into the open air, and the gloomy night. Others broke the glass doors with their fists and dragged themselves through the openings thus made and sought to draw out others. Some became insensible and were only removed by force and taken by their friends to a place of safety.

Strong men were bruised and stunned and were led by their wives. Others found themselves bleeding before they knew they were hurt, and even hobbled with broken limbs, not knowingwhat was their wound. Some sank into the water and were with difficulty rescued by their companions and dragged out upon the ice and snow. Many, as they got out, found themselves amid the rods and braces and hardly knew which way to turn. Some emerged from the doors and fell into the snow and water. A lady climbed out a window and walked on the sides of the car that lay wrecked beneath, and climbed down the back of a man who was willing to become a ladder for her escape. Another escaped with broken limbs which by force she had dragged from beneath the wreck, and then by the rods and braces drew herself to shore through the water into which she had fallen. Another still was able to get out of the car where lay her child and nurse, and was dragged in her night clothes through the water and snow, and across the ice and then stood upon the bank in the storm like a spectre, exclaiming: “There is my child, I hear its voice.” A father rescued his little children, mere babies as they were, and placed them on the snow for strangers to take, and then returned for his wife. She is held by the wreck and is badly hurt and exclaimsthat she cannot be saved, but begs her husband to cut her throat lest the fire should reach her and she be burned to death. She is, however, rescued and the whole family is safe. A gentleman gets out but finds that his limbs will not obey his will, but sink beneath his weight, and he is obliged to crawl on hands and knees to a place of safety. After all others have escaped, something attracts the attention of those on the bank, as if a coat were flapping in the wind. Next a man appears as if attempting to arise, and then the man emerges from the region of the flames, and is helped to the shore by others.

Many became so exhausted and faint that they fell senseless upon the snow and were drawn by others to a place of safety. It is even thought that some were so bewildered that they wandered into the broken places in the ice and were drowned.

It was but a very few minutes before all who could, had escaped and the rest were still struggling to get out or were already dead.

Thecitizens were startled by a sudden crash. Those who lived near the bridge knew that the train was late. Many of them were in some way connected with the road, either as telegraph or baggage men or in some capacity of the railroad service.

For some reason there was an expectancy among them all. Those who dwelt on the banks of the gorge could look from their rear windows and see each train as it came. As the first awful crash was heard the whole neighborhood was startled. Then as the ominous sound of car following car fell upon the ear, crash after crash in quick succession, the horrible consciousness came to all with appalling force. Some started to their feet with alarm. Others rushed to the doors and hastened to the scene. One lady,Mrs. Apthorp, exclaimed to her husband in terror and great alarm: “My God, Henry, No. 5 has gone off the bridge.” As her husband seized his hat and coat and hastened out of the door, with a woman’s sympathy she put the camphor bottle into his hands, thinking of the wounded, and the suffering which must follow.

But a few minutes had passed before a number were at the depot. The engineer of the pump-engine was standing on the depot platform as the train approached. As he heard the sound he looked up and could see the cars from the middle of the train, plunge off to the side of the bridge, and fall into the abyss. The headlight of the engine was above the track, but the passenger cars were falling behind it. The head painter was also in his shop and heard the crash. The saloon keeper of one of the hotels, and the foreman of the fire engine “Lake Erie,” also heard and saw the fall. These were the first to start for the wreck, and reached it very soon. Mr. Apthorp also was early on the ground. These, as they approached were appalled at the awful scene. The engineer seized an axe and pail asthe first things which were at hand, and hardly knowing what he was doing, attempted to break the doors and windows, for the wounded to escape. Mr. Tinlay plunged into the water and swam to the other side to rescue those who were at a distance in the wreck. The omnibus man began to chop to get an opening for those within, but cut an awful gash into his foot, and was obliged to cease. Mr. Apthorp, more deliberate and self-controlled, first thought of the bell and of giving the alarm, but hastened to the train. He went from car to car, entering such as were open and could be reached, and sought to help out those who might be left inside. Others arrived and helped the wounded to escape from the water and ice, and up the bank.

All were excited and hardly knew what they were doing and did not think of what next to do. The engineer fluttered to and fro, excited and uncontrolled. The saloon keeper assisted a few and then disappeared. Some who arrived stood on the bank amazed, and appalled, but idle and passive, amid the scene.

In the meantime the flames began to arise. Itwas only a little glimmering light at first, so small that as the passengers pass they throw snow and a portion of it is quenched. A few buckets of water thrown at this time, would have sufficed to have kept down the flame. But the critical moment was passed. The fire began at both ends of the wreck, and rapidly spread. It was just a little flame on the east side underneath the sleeper. It was brighter in the smoker and in the heap near the bridge, but it spread from car to car, and soon enveloped the whole. No one thought that the fire could be prevented. The desire to rescue the wounded, and save the living, was more urgent. It was too constraining for any deliberate thought. It crowded out every effort to prevent the spreading of the flames. Every one was appalled, and overwhelmed, and did that which seemed most pressing at the moment.

The brakeman, Stone, who had escaped unhurt, thought only of another train which was expected soon. He hastened to the telegraph office to tell of the wreck, and to stop the coming train. The conductor was almost paralyzed with terror andbecame frantic with excitement, and rushed to and fro, calling for help, and it is said was kept with difficulty from throwing himself into the fire.

The flames kept arising. They spread far and wide. They ascended high and still higher. They filled the valley. A cloud of smoke ascended, too. It was black and dense and pitchy. It came from the paint and varnish, and the materials of that gilded wreck. It was stifling to the breath and deadly to all who breathed it. It enveloped the ruins. It even darkened the sky and rolled a thick cloud through the awful gorge. The worst of fears began now to be realized. Horror seized the living, for death now claimed its victims, and man was powerless to deliver. Within the awful canopy the flames shot up, and from among them came forth groans and shrieks and cries of agony and despair.

Then followed the most heart-rending scenes and incidents. Those who were without, but who had friends still left in the burning cars, shouted loud and begged that the fire might be put out; they even sought to go back to get theirfriends. Yells arose from the valley, and were echoed in shouts from the top of the abutments, and one wild scene of excitement pervaded the spot. A little child was heard to exclaim, “Papa, O, Papa, take me!” A woman cried from within a car, “Oh save me, for God’s sake take my child!” A man had clasped a woman, to carry her from the flames, but her foot was caught, and he was obliged to leave her and save himself.

Another saw underneath the floor of a car, a man and a woman lying there and calling for help; he tried to extricate them, but, as the flames arose, he went to the firemen and begged them to put on water and save the living.

Mr. Apthorp saw a woman trying to get out of the window of a car, high up amid the ruins; she was half way out and called for help. He hastened to the rescue, but the flames arose between him and her, and she perished there.

Two men were seen, sitting in their seats, surrounded by the flames, but they perished and no one could save them. One man stood by his berth and burned to death, holding to its side. A gentlemen, supposed by some to be Mr.Brunner of Wisconsin, and by others, to be Mr. P. P. Bliss, the sweet singer, was seen to emerge and then to go back, saying that he will perish with his family.

A gentleman was seen in the midst of the flames, standing as if surrounded by a wall of fire, until he fell. The most appalling sounds and sights shock every heart, and send a shiver of horror through every frame. The howl of a poor wounded dog echoes through the valley.

A woman, whose children have already perished, was seen lifting up her hands and beseeching help, and was at last rescued, among the last, awfully burned, and died in a few days from her wounds. The last one removed was the fireman, and then this poor dog, which had kept up its piteous howling.

The living were driven from the wreck, and could only stand and look upon the awful scene. A cry arose—a horrid cry; it was not a shriek; it was not a groan, nor even a cry for help, but it was a plaintive, melancholy wail—the despairing cry of those who knew that they must die. It was a prolonged, an agonized, a heart-rendingmoan; it was the sound of Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Then all were dead, and silence settled down upon the scene—the awful silence which comes upon the dead.

The parched lips were sealed forever; the stifled breath could no longer send forth a cry or groan; the carnival of death had at last silenced all its victims; the slaughter was complete. “Blood and fire, and vapor of smoke.” The flames leaped and danced, and lifted high their heads, and death was exultant in all its forces. The canopy of blackness arched the snow-covered valley, while the fiery billows rolled between. All that man could do was to stand and look upon the scene, appalled.

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