Railway Disaster at the Junction - 1889

It was one of the worst railway accidents in Hamilton’s history.

Here is the article appearing the day after the accident – no a word of the original article should be edited, lest the reader miss the full immensity of the tragedy….

“The junction out at the western end of Hamilton bay may well be considered “the dark and bloody ground” of the Grand Trunk railway system”

Hamilton Spectator  April 29, 1889

“Ever since the ill-fated night in 1857 when the express plunged into the Desjardins canal, death seems to stalk about in that vicinity, and the occurrence of wreck after wreck, all more or less appalling in results, have caused superstitious railway men in recent years to look upon that locality with dread. Now another has been added to the ghastly list – this time a catastrophe of such magnitude and horror as to rival the original predecessor of this series of railway butcheries.

Yesterday morning was dark and cloudy, and a ceaseless pour of rain flooded the city. The people were not out upon the streets in any numbers until towards church time, and then as the groups gathered at the church doors vague rumours passed from mouth to mouth of another wreck at the junction, but at first the frightful nature of the disaster was not suspected. Only sixty days before the city had been thrilled with the news of an awful wreck in this part of the province, and they could hardly realise that another visitation infinitely more horrible in its results had occurred. But such tidings travel fast, and before many hours came reports of discoveries among the ruins that at once revealed the true extent of the accident. When fuller details were learned there was an involuntary feeling of thankfulness that no Hamiltonians nor residents of sister towns or cities were among the dead; but this speedily gave place to profound sorrow for the unfortunate strangers who had met with death and mutilation so far from home and friends.

The unfortunate train on this occasion was the through limited express from the west which reaches Hamilton at 6:55 in the morning, having been made up in Windsor at 12 o’clock and loaded with passengers from the Chicago and Grand Trunk and Wabash lines. It was an unusually heavy train yesterday, for a Sunday, most of the passengers being on their way to the Washington centennial in New York. It was made up of a locomotive, two baggage cars, a smoker, two day coaches, sleeper Fitchburg, a day coach, Wagner cars Messina, Montpelier and Eloise in that order. One sleeper and a coach were loaded at Detroit with eighty passengers from the Wabash route, and the balance were through cars from Chicago. Engineer Joseph Watson and fireman Edward Chapman were on the engine and Conductor Poole, of Niagara Falls, had charge of the train. As it approached Hamilton she was about five minutes’ late, owing to the heavy load and the slippery condition of the rails.

Where the Accident Occurred.

Fro Copetown to Dundas there is a very heavy grade, which becomes less steep east of the latter point, but continues to the Y. Here the road branches to the right and left, going to Hamilton and Toronto, and just in the fork of the tracks stands – or rather stood – a large wooden tank of the ordinary pattern. Immediately west of the Y the track emerges from a deep cut and at the same time turns a sharp curve and comes out on a sixty-foot embankment crossing an arm of the Dundas marsh. It crosses this embankment, a distance of about 400 feet, and then takes another sharp wheel to the right and vanishes into the rock through Burlington heights. Another cutting runs off to the left towards Toronto, and at the angle of the Y between these cuts is a high rocky point with the water tank in front of it. On the embankment before mentioned, at a point 215 feet west of the tank, is a switch which lets trains into either Hamilton yard, or on to the Toronto branch. Briefly stated there is at this point of the line a grade terminating in a double curve that makes the line turn at right angles.

The Accident

The limited express came down the grade at a high rate of speed, five minutes’ late with slippery rails that made it difficult to control the momentum of the heavy load. The train dashed down the grade, wheeled the first curve in safety, passed the switch on the embankment, but its momentum was too great to enable it to round the second curve. It jumped the track and bolted straight ahead into the water tank at the apex of the Y. The engine left the rails 195 feet from the tank, rushed across the intervening space like a force as to stave it into pieces in an instant and shooting the fragments far in advance. Rebutted by the collision, the locomotive glanced off broadside to the track and turned upside down, while the tender leaped over it and landed among the debris of the tank. The leading baggage car was shot past on the south side and alighted a wheelless, shattered box in the entrance of the rock cutting. The next baggage car mounted a heap of coal on the south side just on the verge of the embankment. On rushed the smoking car and banged against the upturned engine and the day coach that followed telescoped into it with hideous results. The next three cars, cushioning on the wreck ahead and checked by plowing in the deep sandy soil, came to a stand, uninjured, while the Eloise and Montpelier sleepers remained on the track. Of the scene that followed no coherent account can be obtained from the survivors. Amid the escaping steam and the blinding rain, the screams of the injured arose from the awful mound of debris. The survivors at once became a band of rescuers, and the men worked like tigers to get at the victims in the wreck. Those scattered about were first secured and carried out of harm’s way, but wails and screams and the groans of the dying came from the inner part of the wreck. The driver and fireman had a miraculous escape. As the engine turned over, the top of the cab was sent bounding down the embankment, and they were spilled out with comparatively slight hurts. They had stuck to their posts. The accident happened so quickly they hadn’t time to do anything else. The body of a decapitated man, afterwards identified as a Mr. Ederer, was found on the ground near the train, and it is thought he was on the platform of a car when the accident happened. The body of Mr. Gurney was also found lying near the baggage car. The survivors worked like heroes, and in a short time had removed about a dozen wounded from the debris. Then in the confusion of dust and steam and mist the red tongues of flame leaped up with incredible speed, driving back the already half-stifled rescuers who tried to make their way into the interior of the telescoped cars. The heat drove them off, but above the noise of escaping steam could be heard frenzied voices.

Shrieking in the Burning Ruins.

A woman’s voice rose high above the rest for a few moments, screaming with pain and fear, and then all was still. When the escaping steam had ceased to roar nothing was heard from the wreck but the ominous crackling of the flames as they climbed through the mesh of splintered planks and twisted iron and darted their vindictive tongues towards the still uninjured but derailed cars that stood stalled in the sand beyond. Strenuous efforts were at once put forth to save the handsome sleeping cars from destruction. The Montpelier and Eloise had not been derailed, and they were unoccupied and shoved back by hand.  The Fitchburg, Messina and a day coach were off the track but uninjured, and water was carried up from the marsh below to fight the flames, while all speed was made to get up steam in the pumping house at the bottom of the embankment. But it was of no avail. Despite the rain and the efforts of the volunteer firemen, the fire spread from car to car and soon the whole wreck was ablaze.

Help from the City

At first the true extent of the disaster was not known. Amid the intense excitement and confusion of the first ten minutes and amid the blinding clouds of mist and steam not much thought was given to the location of the screams among the cars, and it was thought that the two bodies found and the wounded taken out represented the extent of the disaster. An auxiliary train arrived from the city at 8 o’clock, and the patrol wagon with Sergeant-Major Smith, detective Campbell, Constables Harris and English went out to assist in any way they could. As the news spread, hundreds of people started for the scene on foot and in carriages. The rain poured down unceasingly and the roads were ankle deep in mud, but they pressed in an ever-thickening stream towards the point beyond the bluffs, where the blue smoke curled up in the heavy air. The vicinity of the accident seemed especially laid out for affording an excellent view, the high rocky heights rising ledge upon ledge like the seats in an amphitheatre in front of it. By ten o’clock this place was crowded with sightseers and the plateau above was black with buggy tops. By that time there was not a good deal of interest to be seen. On the track lay a long line of curled and twisted iron rods, stoves and car wheels, mixed with charred and burning wood and looking like the cremated vertebrae of some antediluvian monster. The dead and wounded had been removed to the city and the two sleepers taken back to Dundas. The city and railway police kept the crowd away from the embankment and a large gang of wreckers were at work. A hose was laid from the pumping house and Chief Aitchison took charge of the firemen. It began

To Be Whispered About

some time after eleven o’clock that there were some bodies in the wreck. Jos. Hobson, chief engineer; Samuel Barker, superintendent of the Northern and Northwestern division; Mr. Larmour, and others arrived, but they were sceptical about any more bodies in the wreck, as no persons were missing. It was also said at that time that the switch had been left unlocked, and examinations were made to see if such was the case, but the investigation proved that the engine had left the rails after passing the points. About eleven o’clock it was whispered among the wreckers that bones could be seen among the tangled heap of red hot iron near the engine. Chief Aitchison telephoned into the city for a section of the fire department, and the chemical engine came out with about a dozen men under Foreman George Lowe.

          An Awful Spectacle

          About two o’clock the crowd had increased to over a thousand and the wreck was a sea of faces, many among the spectators being woman and girls. Two members of the auxiliary train crew, George Couglin and Charles Connors, were poking among a heap of black ashes filled with cushion springs and seat irons, when they came upon the remains of a human body, and then another and another. The officials present looked over the spot and came away sick with dread – the dark mound was a heap of charred remains. In a short time a dray appeared loaded up with pine coffins, and the blackened fragments of humanity were picked carefully out and laid within them. One, two, three, four, five, six bodies, and still that frightful heap gave up its dead. Seven, eight, nine, fourteen, fifteen, seventeen bodies! Then the awful nature of the holocaust dawned upon the workers, and men turned away sick and horrified at the frightful sight. Those who saw it will never forget the scene as the long line of coffins was borne to the car awaiting to receive them, while the surging crowd on the hill above became quiet and something like a shudder ran through it as box after box, laden with its ghastly freight, was carried past through the blistering rain storm which at that moment burst upon the place.

          The Condition of the Bodies

          It is doubtful if any of the bodies will ever be identified, so badly are they burned. Most of them had the head, arms and legs burnt off, while others were burned in halves. On the fragment of the shirt the name “Cormick” appeared, but from a casual examination such as was possible a reporter was unable to discern any other marks that might lead to identifying them. Three of the bodies were those of women, as the wires of bustles showed. Later on a man’s leg and pelvis were discovered, probably a portion of one of the first bodies found. As the car containing the bodies was drawn down to the station the news was spread, and on its arrival the platform was crowded with people anxious to sate their morbid curiosity by gazing at the pile of coffins. Stationmaster Armstrong and Chief McKinnon took charge of the bodies and had the car run up to Victoria avenue, near the hospital, where they were loaded on drays and conveyed to the morgue. No effort was made to identify them last evening, as there were no persons looking for missing relatives. After the jury had seen them today a thorough examination will made to obtain clues to their identity. All the dead are supposed to hail from different parts of the northwestern states, and it may be some days before their relatives are apprised of their deaths. Evidently none of the dead had relatives among the survivors, as no inquiries were made about missing relatives.

          Eye-Witnesses of the Disaster

          So far as could be found only two persons witnessed the accident. Little Mamie Flood, the fourteen year old daughter of the junction switchman, was standing at the window of their home across the raving when the express came along. “I saw it come out of the curve alright,” she said, “but as it got about half way across the high embankment the engine began to bump up and down and went straight for the tank. The roof and planks flew into the air; then I heard an awful noise and a cloud of steam rose up and in the middle of it the cars were tumbling about. I ran to wake my sister and then we saw the fire begin to blaze up. The train was running very fast at the time I saw it first and the whole thing was over quick.”

          The reporter unearthed a nice lively old man named Dan’l Young, who keeps a small diary on the hill south of the wreck. “Yes, I seed the smash up,” he admitted when a slight impediment with his hearing was overcome. “I was jest goin’ towards the cow stable when the express come along and I seed her go off the rails an’ bang up agin the tank. The roof of the tank went shying off an’ the cars went scooting past an’ jumped over everythink.”

          “I suppose you immediately started up to see what help you could give?”
          “Waal, no – not jest then. After I had milked the cows an’ done a few chores I went up and hed a look at it, an’ then I come down an’ had breakfast. I tell yer what, young feller, if them men up there hed jest worked anyways- like they could hev saved two or more of them cars’s easy as not.”

          Valentine Flood, the night switchman at the junction, was seen. It was alleged at one time that the switch had been left unlocked, but Mr. Hobson satisfied himself that such was not the case. “I closed and locked the switch thirty-five minutes before the accident,” he said, “and had got down to the operator’s office when we heard a heavy exhaust of steam and saw some of the trainmen running down. It was 7:05 when the wreck occurred.”

          Stories of the Disaster

          David Walker, proprietor of the Walker house, Toronto, was among the passengers. He was seen at the Royal hotel yesterday morning shortly after his arrival in the city from the scene of the disaster. He said : “ I am on my way home from San Francisco where I’ve been for the last three months. I was in the Wagner car the third from the rear, which was filled with through passengers. About six o’clock I got up and dressed, and as the train approached Hamilton I went to the door of the car and was standing with my hand on the door knob when the accident occurred. There was a brakeman standing near me, and I asked him when we were due in Hamilton. He said, ‘At 6:50 – it’s just that time now.’ He hardly got the words out of his mouth when there was a sudden shock, and I was knocked back into the smoking compartment. For about half a minute there was a commotion, and then we can to a standstill. I jerked the door open and looked out. There was a great gush of water running down the embankment – so great that I thought it was a wash out ; but I soon learned hat this was the water from the tank. Calling for help I ran out, and soon heard loud cries from the forward part of the train. When I got to the wreck I helped two men out; they were both conscious but didn’t say much. I got another man out and carried him over to the ruined tank and placed him under the roof. He was badly hurt and feebly asked for water. I asked him if he wanted any whiskey, and he said yes. Then I ran back to the car and got my whiskey and fed him with it. When I went back to my car I roused the people in it, and then went through the train as far as the wreck, getting the people out of their berths. With the help of some others I uncoupled the last two cars and shoved them back; the third Pullman we could not move because the front part of the truck was smashed. All the ladies and children were got out of the leading Pullmans and put into the two that had been detached. There have been rumours that some people were burned in the wreck. That is not so. I carefully inspected the wreck before the fire reached it, and I am certain that there was nobody in it. (Mr. Walker said this at 11 o’clock in the morning. The ghastly discoveries made in the afternoon are a sad commentary on his words.)

          Edwin Chapman, the fireman, is among the injured at the hospital. “I don’t know,” said he, through the bandages that enveopled his head – “I don’t know what the cause of the wreck was. We were due at 7 o’clock, and were about five minutes behind time. We were going at the usual speed – no faster than usual, I’m sure. There was a great crash, and the next thing I knew I was lying on the ground. I know no more than you do how I came to escape so well – you see I have only a badly scalded hand and face. It is not true that Watson (the engineer) or I jumped. We had no time.”

          W. H. Poole, of Niagara Falls, conductor of the train, said : “I took charge of the train at Detroit. We left there about one o’clock in the morning. As near as I can judge, there 115 passengers on board, most of them through passengers. The train consisted of ten cars – two baggage cars, a smoker, three first class coaches and four sleepers. At the time the accident occurred I was in the front part of the sleeping car nearest the engine. The passengers in the car I was in were not seriously injured, but they were badly shaken up.” Mr. Poole refused to say anything further about the accident. He was slightly hurt about the body, but was well enough to go on to the Falls. His overcoat and traps were burned.

          Thomas Knowles, of London, news agent on the train, limped around the station, suffering from a slight injury to his leg. He made the following statement : “I got on board the train at London, and took a sleep until I reached Harrisburg; when I awoke and went to work it was nearing Copetown. I was in the second passenger coach from the smoking car. The first thing I knew the car gave a lunge forward and I was thrown on my back. The top of the coach was torn off and all was confusion. The passengers in the front were not hurt. After I got out I could hear cries for help, and I went on top of the forward coach and assisted in rescuing several passengers.” Mr. Knoyles was very modest, but it was learned from another source that he did grand work in getting the imprisoned passengers out of the wreck.

          Two Toronto gentlemen – Capt. William Hall and Dr. A. H. Dixon, of A. H. Dixon & Son – were together on the unfortunate train. Capt. Hall was seen at the Royal hotel and gave this version of the affair : “We were on our way from Detroit to Toronto, and occupied berths in the Pullman sleeper, about three cars from the engine. We were up and dressed, intending to leave the train at Hamilton. We got up shortly after the train left Harrisburg. I noticed the running of the train, because I am well acquainted with that section of the country. I don’t think it was running more than twenty-five miles an hour. The car I was in was pretty well filled, only a few of the upper berths being vacant. The first intimation I had that anything was wrong was when I felt a sudden shook, which was not severe enough to throw the passengers from their seats. Then the car began to jump violently, and I concluded that it was off the track. I and some more of the passengers tried to get to the rear platform, but the coach was jumping around so that we could not navigate. Then the train came to a standstill. I went outside and saw the passengers coming out of the broken cars, which seemed to be all jumbled together. The passenger coach ahead of us was off the track. The locomotive was lying on its side, partly covered up by the water tank. The tender was thrown across the track. The baggage car must have jumped clear over the locomotive, because it was standing about thirty feet from the wreck. I could not hear any cries for help. I had no idea that there was such a great loss of life. The Pullman I was in took fire shortly after the accident. As near as I could learn the injured passengers were mostly those who were in the smoker. It was the first coach to catch fire. There were very few ladies on the train.” Capt. Hall and Dr. Dixon went to Toronto on the 6:35 train. The former lost all his baggage.

          John Harrington, yardman, went out in charge of the auxiliary with fifty men shortly after the accident occurred. He said : “I found all the cars in a blaze. The engine was lying on ythe Y. The water tank was demolished. The men were at work getting out the passengers. I saw a couple of those injured lying on a portion of the roof of the tank. I understand that Driver Watson was thrown from the cab of the locomotive.”

          James A. Palmer, of Ilion, N. Y., one of the injured passengers, left the hospital about six o’clock and went to the station intending to take the first train for home. As no train left after that time, he was sent by the railway authorities to the Royal hotel. His head was all bandaged, but he was not so seriously hurt that he could not relate his thrilling experience. He said :

          “I left Chicago at three o’clock yesterday afternoon. I was in the smoking car and was preparing to have a sleep when the car lunged and the occupants were all thrown forward. There were between eighteen and twenty in the car. After the accident I crawled along and worked my way out from under the seats which seemed to be all piled together. I got to the top of the car and was helped out by Mr. Walker, of Toronto. The fire started while I was pinned under the seats, and I never thought I would get out alive. I heard several men in another portion of the car crying out for help, but I was powerless and could not assist them. I was seated about the centre of the car. I think that the majority of the passengers who were burnt were in the smoker. Palmer was badly cut on the forehead and was bruised about the body. He will be all right in a few days.

          Another injured traveller who left the hospital after his wounds were dressed was A. J. Carpenter, of Yankton, Dakota. He was anxious to get home to Richfield Springs, N. Y., but could not catch a train and had to remain over. He hung around the station for a while and then went to the Royal hotel. He had been in Dakota for twenty-four years, and was returning to Richfield Springs, where his parents used to live. He is not certain now whether they are alive or not, but immediately after he got out of the wreck he sent a telegram to some friends there informing them that he was all right. His story of the disaster is as follows : “I was an occupant of the smoking car when the accident happened. Everything in the car appeared to be piled together. I was lying on the floor with two other passengers on top of me. They were rather slow in getting out and I feared that I would be burned to death, as my hair was burning and I could see the flames in front of me. The men above me finally hauled me out of the top of the car and I got out as soon as I could free myself from a seat which had fallen on my leg. When I was in the car, I could see a woman who was some distance back of me, thrust her hand forward as if she were trying to release herself. She was surrounded by the flames and I haven’t the slightest doubt that she perished. The two other men who were lying on top of me were also uninjured. The smoking car and the passenger coach following it were all jumbled together. Mr. Carpenter told a reporter that he would sooner take his chances in a Dakota blizzard than in a railway accident. His hair was slightly scorched. His arm was broken and he had an ugly wound on his head.

          Identifying the Dead

          When the wreck was being cleared away the dead body of a man was found lying in the center of the embankment to the right. The head was cut clean from the body. From the position of the corpse it looked as if the man had been standing on the platform and was thrown off. There were no other wounds on the body. He was well dressed, about forty years old and had considerable money on him. He was identified as R. J. Ederer, of R. J. Ederer & Co., by a letter found on his pocket. It was from A. F. Anderson & Son, of Boston Mass., and referring to the purchase of a printing press, His name was printed on the face of a beautiful gold watch which was still going when it was found. He had two gold rings – one on the little finger of each hand. On the inside of one of the rings, which looked like a lady’s, was stamped : “R. J. E. to A. H., 1884.” It was probably his wife’s wedding ring. One of his cuffs, covered with blood and bearing the initials, “R. J. E.,” was found near the body. The other one was on the dead man’s wrist. An excursion ticket from Chicago to New York and return was found in another pocket. The Supposition is that the man lived in Chicago. A prescription blank and a business card of Dr. G. S. Smith, of Chicago, were in his pocketbook. The other articles found on the body were a pair of scissors, an eight-bladed knife, and a pair of kid gloves.

          A second body was found lying near the wreck of the smoking car, a couple of feet from the track. There was a large hole in the temple and the head was crushed. In the pockets were found a number of letters from Brooklyn and New York addressed to L. S. Gurney, at the Seventh avenue hotel, Pittsburgh, at Cincinnati, St. Louis and Chicago. Several of the letters are very affectionate, and are presumably from a young lady, and were signed Joe. There were also two small photographs of a handsome young lady, taken by S. A. Taylor, 453 Fulton street, Brooklyn. A number of business cards which were found in his pocketbook showed that the dead man’s name was L. S. Gurney, importer of cutlery, specialties in hardware, 116 Chambers street, New York. Among the letters was one from the firm, headed “Dear Sam” which was addressed to Pittsburgh. He had an excursion ticket, purchased at the Palmer house, from Chicago to New York and return. There were a number of orders for cutlery from Keene Bros., South Clark street, McNellis, Campbell and Co., and Rosenstock & Co., all of Chicago. These were written on Leland house, Chicago, note paper. The dead man was about thirty years old. He was probably on his way back to New York from a western trip. He was neatly dressed, had a gold watch and wore a diamond ring on the little finger of his left hand. Gurney’s samples of cutlery, etc. were found in the wreck of the baggage car. The jackknives and scissors were scattered about. Sergt. Major Smith took possession of them.

          Traffic Arrangements.

          Station Agent Armstrong worked like a Trojan and made arrangements for transporting the passengers. About sixty-five of those who came off the unlucky train were sent east on a special train which left at 11:30. Conductor Pools, J. Walsh (baggage man), Brakemen Gibbons and Peckman, Fred Dumas, express messenger, and News Agent Knowles went through to Niagara Falls.

          The train from the west due here at two o’clock went around from Paris by way of Caledonia. Those were bound for here were brought from Caledonia by the Northern and Northwestern division. The passengers from here and Toronto, who were going east, were sent to Niagara Falls by special train. The Pacific express, due here at 4:10 was also sent around by way of Caledonia, and the passengers for Hamilton and Toronto came up on a special train from the bridge. The wreck was cleared away about seven o’clock last night and the trains will be running all right again today.

                   Was First Baseman Phillips Killed?

         

          When Manager Swartwood learned about the calamity his first thought was whether or not Big Bill Phillips, the Hams’ first first baseman, was killed. Phillips telegraphed that he would be here on Saturday. When he did not arrive then, Smartwood expected that he would be in some time yesterday. His non-arrival alarmed Smartwood, who telegraphed to Chicago to find out if he had left there, but he did not receive an answer. One of the charred bodies taken from the wreck was that of an athletic-looking man, but his face was burnt beyond recognition. If Phillips does not put in an appearance today then suspicion that he has been killed will be confirmed.

                   Notes

          At midnight, it was reported that the injured at the hospital were all doing well.

          R. Gregory Cox, barrister, and John Carroll, contractor, of St. Catharines, were on the train.

          Constable Logan has several pails filled with watches, coins, spectacles, and jewellery taken from the fire.

          The calamity was referred to in nearly all the city churches last night and in some of them in the morning.

          A Mrs. Paradise, of Denver, Col., was one of the passengers, reported to the police that her valise was stolen.

          George Whitney was arrested at the wreck. He was drunk and annoyed the men who were working there.

          G. J. Black, of 14 Park street south, commercial traveller for Young Bros., was a passenger on the ill-fated train.

          The safe of the express company was in the baggage car and was found among the debris. It did not contain any valuables.

          Engineer Watson was at the house of Robert Martin, 15 Magill street, last night. He refused to see a reporter last night.

          Track Inspector Nelson and his men were on the scene early, and by working industriously, they had the track cleared by seven o’clock.

          Detective Donald Campbell brought away a sword bayonet, belonging to one of the Yankee cadets, which had been through the fire.

          The scene of the wreck was visited by many hundreds of citizens, most of whom trudged through the rain and mud to witness the awful scene.

          The loss in rolling stock will be nearly $60,000. The sleepers cost $16,000 each, the coaches $6,000 and an engine $9,000, besides the injury to the tank and road bed.

          The injured at the hospital were well cared for by Dr. Beemer, the resident physician, Drs. Shaw, Olmsted and Osbourne, and the kind, patient and cheerful nurses.

          Several city physicians got to the wreck between eight and nine o’clock, and others were at the Stuart street station to meet the injured when they were brought in on the auxiliary.

          The bodies of Ederer and Gurney, and the twelve injured persons, were taken as far east as the city hospital, on the auxiliary train and were carried to the hospital.

          George Wise, of Union Hill, N. J., who is at the hospital minus an ear is at the city hospital is a German. He was asked by a reporter if he had any relatives on the train. “Yes,” he replied; “I had ven dhroonk  and von walise.”

          James Peckman, brakeman, son of Conductor Peckman, had his leg sprained. His mate, J. Gibbons, escaped without hurt, and Fred Dumas, express messenger, was equally fortunate. They went to the Falls.

          J. Welsh, of Niagara Falls, baggage man, had a narrow escape. He was in the front baggage car and got badly shaken up. He thought that his collar bone was fractured, but his mate got hold of his arm and pulled it in position again.

          There is considerable uncertainty as to whether there were there were nine or ten cars on the train. Mr. Larmour could only find the remains of nine, but the conductor, who had gone on to Niagara Falls, wired back that there were ten.

          R. J. Ederer, of Chicago, one of the two identified dead, was as cleanly decapitated as if the work had been done with a broad axe. There was no other mark or injury on the body. The skull is lost, but a portion of the scalp, with an ear attached, was recovered, and was placed with the body at the morgue.

          It was feared by his relatives in Hamilton that Andrew Dallas, of Toronto, was in the wreck. He was expected to have arrived in Hamilton from Chatham yesterday morning, but did not. It was learned, however, that no ticket for Hamilton was sold at Chatham yesterday.

          Among the passengers was a young Baltimore man who has been working in Chicago. He was on his way home for a visit. He was in one of the forward cars and got a bad shaking up. “I intended to give my folks a surprise,” said he, “but I came near giving them a surprise I didn’t intend,”

          A loving letter, dated Malden, February 8, addressed to G. W. Hopkins, 417 West Third street, Los Angeles, Cal., was found near the wreck. It was from a woman to her husband, who had gone to California for his health. The letter was posted at Boston, Mass. It is not known if it belonged to any of the passengers who were killed.

          Wm. B. McMillan, one of the members of the Detroit light infantry corps, stated in the Royal hotel yesterday, before leaving for the east, that several of his comrades were missing, Some buttons were picked up among the debris during the afternoon, which looked as though they might belong to uniforms.

          This is the fourth wreck that has occurred near the junction cut within the last five years. Two express trains collided west of the junction in 1884 and two men were killed. In 1885 another collision occurred on the Toronto side of the Y and two tramps passed in their checks. In February, 1888, another collision resulted in the loss of two more lives and a lot of property.

          Among the railway men present were R. Larmour, division superintendent; Samuel Barker, superintendent of the N. and N. W. division; George McLerie, freight agent; Joseph Wallace, chief clerk; Jos. Hobson, chief engineer; A. H. Smith, assistant mechanical superintendent. Mr. Stiff is in New York. Mr. Wallace was at Niagara Falls on the way to Georgia when he heard of the accident and returned.

          Hugh Young, a young man whose mother and sisters live on Locomotive street, this city, was on the train. He works in the Grand Trunk railway shops in Detroit, and was on his way home for a visit. Hugh was buried under a pile of wreckage. When he crawled out and found himself uninjured, he rolled up his trousers and ran home at the top of his speed, in order to beat the news home. He knew that his mother and sisters expected him on that train.

          The members of the Uncle Tom Cabin company, who came up from Toronto at 12:30 Saturday night, were waiting at the station to take the limited express for the east. When they heard about the accident, they generously volunteered to go out to wreck and assist in the rescuing of the passengers. Their services were not accepted, but the ladies were on hand when the survivors arrived and went to work repairing the clothes who were in the disaster.

         

1889-04-29 Spectator (Editorial)

"The Railway Horror”

       Yesterday’s railway accident near this city was one of the most frightful in the annals of railway disasters. The loss of life has frequently been exceeded, but the accessories of horror in the present case are most deplorable. The facts will be elicited in the course of the investigation which will take place, and the cause of the sad event will then no doubt be clearly apparent. At present the evidence justifies a belief that the train was coming down a heavy grade and dashing around sharp curves at a dangerous rate of speed. It is but just to say that the testimony on that point is conflicting; and it may well be as well to suspend judgement till all the truth is known.

          Bad as the disaster is, and terrible are its details, it appears that only the infinite mercy of an overruling Providence prevented worse results. It is almost a miracle that some of the coaches which remained on the track were not thrown down the embankment. Had that occurred, the loss of life would have been much greater than that which is now deplored.

          The event enforces several criticisms, upon railways and railway management, which previous events have pointed out. The first relates to the question of speed. Railway trains are habitually run at unsafe rates of speed. The public are chiefly to blame for this. High speed is expensive, and the companies would much rather limit their trains to thirty miles an hour than to force them up to forty; but travellers are in such haste that they are not content with reasonable haste and safety. Hence calamities like that now recorded.

          Fresh evidence is furnished that it is unwise and unsafe to put light smoking and day coaches between the locomotive and heavy sleeping cars. In case of accident, the sleepers crash into the lighter coaches in front and crush them into kindling wood.

          The frightful burning of passengers gives fresh evidence of the danger of car stoves. In some parts of the United States these are forbidden by law. We believe that it is true enough that the heating of cars by steam from the locomotive is not wholly satisfactory. It makes those nearest the engine too warm, while those in the rear are not warm enough. At the same time, a little discomfort is better than exposure to such heartrending burnings as that of yesterday.

          Perhaps such incidental calamities will not be stopped until railway carriages are made of iron or some other non-combustible material. Perhaps no means will ever be found to prevent trains from leaving the track, and no watchfulness seems to guard against collisions. If these must occur, surely they may be made less terrible by taking such precautions as will reduce the loss of life to a minimum. “

(To Be Continued)