FIRST FATAL DISASTER TO A PASSENGER
TRAIN ON THE ERIE.
They were still using cars with but four wheels under them,
on the New York and Eric Railroad, in 1846. The wheels were of
what was known as the Winans wheel, and were cast with spokes.
In 1846 the female seminary conducted by the Misses Watkins at
Middletown, N. Y., was a school noted in all that part of the
State and the adjacent portions of New Jersey and Pennsylvania.
At. the close of the school for the summer vacation in the above
year, the young ladies attending the institution joined the Misses
Watkins in an excursion to the then Mecca of all pleasure-seekers
who could make the spot available, the Elysian Fields at Hoboken,
whose shady groves, green fields, and pleasant nooks long since
fled before the encroachment of railroad tracks, stockyards, coal-yards,
oil-yards, and docks and dock approaches. The day selected for
the excursion was Friday, July 24th. Two extra passenger cars
were put on the regular morning train on that day to accommodate
the excursionists. With these cars the train consisted of four
passenger and three milk cars. One of the passenger cars had also
an apartment for baggage and the mail. The train left Middletown
at 6:30 in the morning, with about 200 passengers aboard, in charge
of Conductor James Lytle. The engineer was Joseph Meginnes; the
engine, the "Orange." The number of excursionists was
increased somewhat by others who boarded the train at New Hampton,
Goshen, Chester, Oxford, and Monroe. About a mile east of Monroe
the railroad track was carried across the outlet, or an arm, of
Seaman's mill pond by a trestle bridge. The opening thus bridged
was twenty feet wide and twelve deep. The water at the bottom
was shallow.
The young ladies of the seminary and their parents and invited
guests were in the rear car of the train. The next car was one
of the two "diamond cars." This car was larger and heavier
than the others. It was filled with passengers, as was the one
ahead of it. The combination car was next to the milk cars. Among
those in the second passenger car was George Stevens, aged seventeen,
and his sister. They were from New York and had been visiting
friends near Goshen, at which place they got aboard the train
to return to New York. just before the train reached the trestle
at Seaman's mill pond, young Stevens went out on the rear platform.
Ogden Hoffman, Jr., son of the famous New York lawyer of that
name, and who had also been visiting friends in Orange County;
Ogden H. Dunning of Goshen; Ira S. Crane, son of Dr. John S. Crane
of Goshen John Hawkins of Hamptonburgh; John Monnell of Middletown
- and Edgar Monnell of Goshen, had also gone out and were standing
between the two cars, some on one platform and some on the other.
The train was moving rapidly on a declining grade, when suddenly
the passengers in the combination car found themselves violently
thrown and tumbled about over and under the seats. Capt. Lytle,
who had been through the train collecting fares, was going toward
the door leading to the baggage apartment and was hurled forward
with such force by the sudden stopping of the car that he was
carried bodily through a pannel of the door and thrown in a heap
among the mass of disarranged trunks, hampers, baskets, and other
belongings of the passengers.
Almost simultaneously with the commotion on the combination
car, passengers in the second car felt it suddenly begin to thump
and bound roughly on its way. Occupying one seat in the centre
of that car were a little girl, who sat next to the window; Nathaniel
Webb, Esq., editor of the Goshen Democrat; Capt. Israel
H. Wickham of Middletown, and his little boy. When the thumping
began Mr. Webb glanced ahead out of the window, and saw timbers
flying wildly, and water splashing. Then came a tremendous shock,
and Mr. Webb felt a violent blow on the left side of the head.
Then there was an awful crash, and for a moment all was still,
and then from beneath the ruins of the crushed car there issued
appalling and heartrending shrieks. In a minute, having partially
recovered from the stupefying effect of the blow on his head,
Mr. Webb hastily put the little girl out the window, and disengaging
his feet with much difficulty from the crushed seats, made his
escape by the same window.
The locomotive and two milk cars were about ten rods beyond
the stream, safely on the rails. A little in the rear was a milk
car thrown from the track. About two yards in the rear of that
was the foremost passenger car, deprived of its trucks, and thrown
obliquely across the rails. From this, passengers were scrambling
through doors and windows. Then came the car from which Mr. Webb
had escaped. It was lying directly across the stream, with its
forward end resting against the bank and nearly on a level with
the surface of it, the rear end lying against the opposite bank,
about two feet below the level of the railroad, and so nearly
broken in two in the middle that it nearly reached the water in
the shallow stream below. Next came the diamond car, with its
rear end resting on the bank even with the track, and about twelve
feet of its forward end, the car lying obliquely, resting directly
upon the second car, which it had crushed down. The fourth and
last car was off the track. It had escaped injury, however, as
had its occupants.
The rear car had struck the fallen car and run through it about
half its length, crushing down all in its way. Between the floor
of these two cars lay most of the passengers in the second car,
imprisoned and crushed; and it seemed that necessarily most of
them must be fatally hurt, so small was the space where they were
held. Their groans and shrieks; their heart-rending entreaties
for help, mingling with the wild and frantic cries of those who
had escaped but were calling upon the name of a missing child,
parent, or friend; and the sight of blood dripping freely through
the broken bottom of the car into the water beneath, all formed
a scene of horror to unnerve the stoutest heart.
After the first panic of the catastrophe was over, and it lasted
but a very short time, the hands belonging to the cars, the passengers
that were uninjured, and men from the neighborhood who immediately
repaired to the spot went vigorously to work, and by demolishing
the car succeeded in releasing the sufferers one by one. This
was before the days of the telegraph, and wrecking cars or wrecking
crews were things unknown. Conductor Lytle despatched a man on
horseback for aid, and to carry the news to Middletown, with instructions
to get a fresh horse at Chester and another at Goshen. He sent
the locomotive forward to Piermont with the news. From there word
was sent by a fast steamboat to the officers of the Company in
New York.
The only mode of releasing the passengers from the telescoped
cars was to tear away the sides, or break up the floor of the
diamond car, which formed the cover to the death trap. For some
time the rescuers lacked tools to do this expeditiously, but at
last axes were obtained from neighboring farmhouses. These had
to be handled with care as well as haste, for there was danger
in striking a violent blow lest further and perhaps fatal injury
should be done to some one of the imprisoned victims.
Only two of the young men who had stood on the platform when
the accident occurred could be found. These were Ogden Hoffman,
Jr., and Ogden H. Dunning. Neither was hurt, but Dunning never
knew how he came off the cars. The others, Ira Crane, George Stevens,
John Hawkins, Edgar Monnell, and Charles Monnell, had been thrust
through the end of the car and were wedged in beneath the floors
of the two for nearly an hour and a half before they could be
extricated. Stevens and Crane had been killed instantly, and were
crushed out of all recognition. Charles Monnell was fatally injured,
and died next day. Edgar Monnell and Hawkins were badly hurt,
but recovered.
Gilbert W. Oliver, of Bloomingburgh, Sullivan County, N. Y.,
had one leg frightfully mangled, but he bound it up with his handkerchief
to keep the mangled parts together, and heroically went to work
to rescue his fellow sufferers. He persisted in this work until
he fell exhausted from pain and loss of blood.
On following the railroad about twenty-five rods back from
the stream, the cause of the accident was discovered. A short
distance from the track lay the half of one of the car wheels.
The wheel from which this part was broken was one on the last
milk car. As the car thus crippled had kept the track for some
distance, the broken wheel was not noticed. Just before the car
reached the bridge, though, it left the rail, and began to strike
and splinter the timbers. As it went over the bridge it tore that
structure almost bare of its timbers, but the passenger car just
behind it got -over the gap in some way, with the exception of
its hind truck, which was torn loose on the opposite bank and
remained there. The second passenger car also leaped the gap,
but its front end struck a little below the surface of the bank
and directly against the mass of wreck left by the car preceeding
it. The "diamond car" was driven by the impetus of the
rear cars violently upon the stalled car, and went crashing halfway
through it.
As the "diamond car" rushed upon the car ahead of
it, the roof of the latter, instead of breaking up, forced its
way through the encroaching car, and in a sound state protruded
some twelve feet into it, passing over the heads of those sitting
most forward, but striking with great violence those who sat near
the termination of its course. Several of the passengers were
here badly hurt. One of these, Mrs. Charles Conkling, had the
evening before been married at Otisville, and was in company with
her husband on her bridal trip. The. sweeping roof of the second
car struck her in the neck and breast, and inflicted such a frightful
wound that she was carried from the wreck, it was believed, to
quickly die. That she did not die instantly is to this day a cause
of wonder to all who remember or have heard the story of her dreadful
injuries. She lingered for weeks on the boundary of death, but
at last recovered sufficiently to get about, although terribly
scarred. She never fully recovered from the shock of the disaster,
however, and died from its effects a year or so later.
Dr. Boyd, of Monroe, was soon at the scene of the catastrophe,
and doctors from Chester hastened to the spot on receiving intelligence
of the casualty.
The rear end of the train, which had sustained no injury, was
transformed into a hospital. As soon as possible a handcar was
provided, covered with cushions from a passenger car, and on it
the dead and badly wounded were removed to Stickney's Hotel at
Monroe. The accident happened at 8 o'clock. When the messenger
on horseback reached Middletown and told the dreadful news, which
he had also scattered as he rode, church bells were tolled and
all the countryside was wrapped in gloom. A locomotive being at
Middletown, a relief train was quickly made up, and, bearing physicians
and groups of anxious and grief-stricken friends of the disaster's
victims, sped toward the scene of the disaster as train had never
sped over the road before. The locomotive sounded its whistle,
dolefully all along the line. The train arrived at Seamansville
at noon. Two hours later it returned, bearing the dead, and all
the wounded that could safely be removed, to the homes which they
had left but a short time before, happy and buoyant with expectations
for the day, to meet but mutilation and death.
The steamboat that was to have carried the joyous party from
Piermont down the Hudson to their destination was despatched instead
to New York with the news of the awful fate that had befallen
them. President Loder, accompanied by four New York surgeons he
had hastily summoned, returned to Piermont on the boat, and hastened
thence to the wreck by special train. He arrived on the scene
soon after the relief train from Middletown got there. On Saturday
he despatched a special car to bear the terribly wounded Mrs.
Conkling to her home at Middletown. Charles Monnell, one of the
injured, died on that day, and his body was taken to Middletown
on a special car. President Loder visited personally the homes
of all the wounded, to learn what he could do or have done to
alleviate their sufferings.
Another one of the passengers among the seriously injured was
Miss Julia Wisner, daughter of Daniel Wisner, of Middletown. Her
breast bone was so broken and crushed that its removal was necessary.
Miss Wisner never recovered from the effects of her injury. She
died a few years later. Her funeral was the largest ever held
in Orange County, the procession being two miles in length.
Following is the list of killed and badly wounded in this first
serious accident on the Erie Railroad:
KilledIra S. Crane, aged 19, son of Dr. J. S. Crane,
Goshen - George Stevens, aged 17, New York City; Charles Monnell,
son of Joseph Monnell, hotel-keeper, Middletown.
WoundedMrs. Charles Conkling, very badly lacerated on
her neck and breast; Mr. and Mrs. Penny; George Harding, son of
Charles Harding-Otisville. Miss Julia A. Wisner, daughter of Daniel
Wisner; Miss Louisa Sweet, daughter of Halstead Sweet; Nathaniel
Cooley; Jesse Van Fleet - Miss Sarah Watkins, one of the principals
of the Seminary; David Holley, one arm broken, the other dislocated
- Mrs. T. C. Royce-Middletown. Gilbert W. Oliver, very badly cut
in the leg; Miss Miller, daughter of George Miller--Bloomingburgh.
Howard Thompson, milk agent at Monroe. Miss Stevens, sister of
young Stevens who was killed; M. Newman; Mr. Bursell; Mr. Strand;
Walter S. Corwin-New York City. Edgar Monnell, son of Charles
Monnell; Nathaniel Webb-Goshen. John Hawkins, Hamptonburgh. Others
were injured more or less seriously.
No accident that had occurred upon any railroad up to that
time in this country created so wide-spread a sensation as this
one caused. It became the subject of public comment not only in
this country, but abroad. It was the first accident of its kind,
and revealed new possibilities of danger to life and limb that
lay in wait for travellers by rail. It showed, also, the necessity
of providing safeguards against the occurrence of similar disasters-
not that the managers of the Erie had not had abundant previous
evidence of the defects in the equipment of the road, and the
insufficiency of its construction. That it should have required
an awful sacrifice of life and the maiming and mutilating of two
score of persons to spur the management to a correction of those
faults presented a subject for much indignant and bitter comment
by the press of the country, although the people to whom the results
of the disaster came directly home with crushing force put it
on record, at a public meeting held at Middletown three days after
the accident, that they exonerated the railroad company from all
blame. The chairman of this meeting was Capt. Israel Wickham,
who, with his little boy, was among those who had to be dug out
of the ruins of the second car, and whose escape with scarcely
a scratch was one of the miraculous ones of the catastrophe.
This railroad accident led to the prompt abandoning of the
use of the Winans spoke car wheel, not on the New York and Erie
Railroad alone, but on every railroad where cars were equipped
with such wheels, and to the adopting of solid Wheels. It led
to the replacing of four-wheeled by eight-wheeled cars on the
Erie. From it grew the system of testing car wheels at intervals
during a train's trip by tapping them with a hammer to detect
by the sound a defective wheel, a system that soon became, and
is yet, universal on railroads the world over. It led to the immediate
beginning of the work of filling in and strengthening the trestles
of the division of the Eric then in operation, and to the ordering
that particular care be observed in building similar work on the
sections then under construction. Attention was at once especially
given to the long and high trestle wall which carried the railroad
over the Hackensack River, and its deep valley near Nanuet. This
was a slight-looking elevation of timber nearly seventy feet high,
and its apparent insecurity had been the source of much loss to
the Company in traffic, as a large portion of the travelling public
was afraid to risk passing over the lofty structure. This feeling
was intensified by the falling of a freight train through the
trestle in 1843, and the killing of a conductor. The filling in
of this great gap required over 340,000 cubic yards of earth,
and the building of a stone arch or culvert, 140 feet long and
thirty-foot span, for the passage of the river through the embankment.
This was at that time one of the most expensive pieces of work
the Company had encountered. It was completed in May, 1847.
The accident at Seamansville, aside from the death and suffering
it caused, was a costly mishap for the Company; for, notwithstanding
the public declaration that the community did not hold it blameworthy,
the Company soon found itself defendant in a host of suits brought
to recover heavy damages, the settlement of which, together with
the other costs of the accident, compelled an outlay of more than
$100,000
Mrs. Pronk, widow of James A. Pronk, Esq., of Middletown, was
one of the young ladies on that historic train. C. W. Dimmick,
now of Washington, D. C., was also a passenger.
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