Chapters 6, 7 & 8
The Ashtabula Train Disaster of 1876 Chapter 6
by
Darrell E. Hamilton

            As daylight descended down upon Ashtabula, the extent of destruction was  just  fully
being  realized.  Even  the  people  who  had  worked  all  night  trying  to  save the survivors never fully realized the extent of the destruction.
           One of those people that worked all night to help the survivors was  Fred W. Blakeslee. Fred  was  a member of the Ashtabula  Voluntary Fire Dept. Even though the fire chief at the fire  department   near  the  depot  never  gave  the  orders to put out the fire out,  a call went out to the voluntary fire department in the business district of  Ashtabula.
           Fred  Blakeslee  was just 21 years old when he struggled through the snow drifts down Lake  Avenue  with  the  other  firemen  to  bring the heavy pumper to the train wreck.  Even
though  no  orders  were  given  to  use  the pumper,  most of the  fireman stayed and  worked valiantly all throughout the night rescuing people and assisting with the injured. Over half
the people rescued that night were rescued by those firemen.
           When  daylight  came,  Fred  Blakeslee went home to get some rest. Fred was one of the younger  members of the fire  department.  He  had  also  just  opened,  that  year,  his  photo-graphic  studio  on  Main  St.  at  the site of the present Masonic Temple building.  He was al-ready making a name for himself  for his outstanding work.
         After a few hours of rest,  Fred arose thinking the night had been just been a bad dream. Then  he  glanced  over  at the clothes he wore the night before. Covered in blood, he knew it was all too real.
         Sensing  the opportunity to get some unusual pictures of the wreckage, he got his horse and  sleigh  ready  to  go  back  down  to  the  wreckage.  He  placed  in  the  sleigh  his  bulky camera, plates and sensitizing materials, essential for crude photography of the time.
         Know as the "collodion"  process, a glass plate was first coated with collodion and when still wet was immersed in a silver nitrate solution.  In  making  a  picture,  the  wet plate was exposed to the light much as in present day photography.  The image made on the plate was brought out by developing in a reducing agent such as ferrous sulfate.  Prints were  made by reversing the process. This was the same method used by  Matthew Brady, famous  Civil War photographer.
         Once he arrived back at the disaster scene,   Fred clambered down the icy steps with his bulky  camera  and  photograph  equipment  to  the  pumping station just west of the bridge. After setting up his camera, Fred made several attempts to record history that day. Because of  the  bitter,  freezing  cold  that  day,  the  photographic solutions kept freezing.  He had to take  his  plates  and  photographic  solutions  in   a switchman's shanty to warm them  suffi-ciently so they would not freeze while he was outside taking pictures.
         The  pictures  shown  of  the  disaster in the previous chapters of this series, were taken by  Fred  W.  Blakeslee,  a  photographer  and  fireman,  within  24  hours  of the disaster. The picture of the bridge before the disaster was also taken by  Fred.  Another photographer did arrive from Cleveland later.
          Fred W. Blakeslee pictures were probably the  most distributed pictures of the disaster scene  as  he  was  the  first photographer to take pictures. Even though the pictures are old, thousands  of  the  pictures  were  distributed world wide. I  have personally found copies of these pictures in Columbus, Ohio, St. Louis, Missouri, California and England.
           Fred  Blakeslee  continued  his  photography  business  for  many  years.  He was also a voluntary  fireman for many years.  He became a well known photographer.  After his retire-ment, his business was handed over to his son,  Robert  S.  Blakeslee.  Fred W. Blakeslee died in 1928.
          Even though some of my short sketches on the disaster have been graphic at times, try-ing to convey the seriousness of the destruction without it would be difficult.
         These stories on the train disaster have come from many different resources.  The  book on the train disaster written by  Rev.  Stephen  D.  Peet in 1877 has been an excellent  source. Private  letters  by  Norris  Simons,  ticket  agent  for  the  railroad,  on  duty  the night of the disaster was another.
           Many  of  the  survivors  of  the  disaster  found it difficult to talk about the disaster for many  years  while  others  never  talked  about  it.  Some  of their stories can be found in the Star  Beacon  many  years  later.  However,  most  of  the  survivors weren't from Ashtabula. I have found their stories in newspapers around the country such as in  New York,  Philadel--phia,  Cleveland,  Chicago  and as  far away as  California.   Some   of   those   stories  I  haved shared with you.

The Ashtabula Train Disaster of 1876 - Chapter 7
by
Darrell E. Hamilton

        While Fred Blakeslee photographed the disaster scene,  H. P. Hepburn,  mayor of  Ashta-bula at the time of the disaster, was already at the scene  disaster.  He  immediately  ordered policemen to stand guard at the steps going down to the  gulf  as to  protect  the  scene  from looters.  He also had a policeman  stationed  in the  Gulf  at the  disaster  scene.  Some of  the survivors that were able to talk the next day, told  Mayor Hepburn about them being robbed He immediately ordered an investigation. Even though most of the items were  never  recov-ered, Some of the survivor's belongings were recovered.
        By  noon  that  day,  the  policeman  were  having  a difficult time keeping back the large crowds  that  were  gathering  from  all  over  the county. To complicate matters worse, train loads  of  people  began  to  arrive  from  Painsville, Cleveland and other distant locations as curiosity  seekers.  No one was sure  who was in charge of the disaster  scene, the railroad or the village. The mayor himself  was an employee of the railroad as an assistant engineer.
        As  the  men  worked  to remove the bodies and parts of bodies of men, women and child-ren,  the  crowds  grew  larger.  The  body  and  parts  of  bodies  were  taken  up  the  bank on sleighs.   They  were  taken  to  the  freight  house  that was turned into a temporary morgue. Thirty-six  bodies were placed in boxes in the freight  house.  The charred bodies, torsos and other body parts were stacked on the floor. Some of  the bodies were burned so severely that their bones fused together in  an  outstretched  manor. Their bones would have to be broken to  be  placed  in  a  burial box.  Some of the bodies were so swollen and distorted that no box available could hold their forms.
    From the book, The Ashtabula Train Disaster by Rev. D. Peet
    comes the following passage:
      "A little child was there, beautiful in death; the delicate little foot hid beneath the closely fitting shoe, the nicely tapered limbs, the graceful, lovely form, the tasteful dress,  the hands so tiny and so touching in their shape, one could but love the little thing.  Even the stranger wanted  to take that sweet,  that precious child, and clasp it to the heart;  but no,  that awful gash, that cruel blow had stricken all the beauty  from  the  lovely  face.  If  now,  the  mother would  kiss  her  darling  child,  she  must  press her lips upon vacant air, hoping that, as she pressed that loved form to her aching heart, an angel spirit might catch the found caress."
         A  few  of the bodies found contained no broken bones or any signs of visible injury. The conclusion at the time was that death was attributed to smoke inhalation.
         Mayor   Hepburn  ordered  that  all  valuables,  that  were  over looked by the thieves, be gathered and taken to the morgue.  The Mayor  ordered  guards  to watch the men that were gathering the belongings  of the victims mimimizing any thievery that might take place.
        With  hands,  feet,  rakes, hoes and shovels, relics were fished out of the Ashtabula River. Everything  was  preserved  from  bits  of  clothing to pieces of jewelry.  Anything and every- thing  which  gave  trace  of  the  passengers  were  gathered  and  placed  in  the  make  shift, guarded morgue.
       The railroad and the village were doing their best to  help  preserve  any relic that might help  identify  any  of  the  victims.  At  the same time they  were hoping to return some of the belonging to the survivors.
         By  late  afternoon,  the  press  from  New  York,   Chicago  and  other  distant  cities  had
arrived. A press conference was set up at the station house with the railroad officials.  Some of  the  railroad  officials  including  the  station agent found it very difficult to answer ques-tions without having tears in their eyes.  In front of the press,  the station agent got down on his  knees and cried like a baby.  Something he had never done as man.  The  events  over the last 24 hours would haunt him the rest of his life.
The Ashtabula Bridge Disaster of 1876 - Chapter 8
by
Darrell E. Hamilton

        Charles Collins, chief engineer of the  Lake Shore & Michigan Southern Railroad,  never gave the  bridge his approval and called the bridge experimental.  He  left the responsibility up to the President of the Railroad as  to  whether  it  should  be  built  or  not.  Even  though Collins suggested that type of bridge not be built,  the president of the railroad ordered it to be  built  anyway.  During  the  bridge's  erection,  the  engineer,  Mr.  Tomlinson,  differed  so much with the president that he  resigned his position.  The thought of resignation had also passed through  Mr. Collins' mind.  The thought would come back to haunt him eleven years later.
         Charles  Collins  had worked that fateful night in  freezing  water  up  past  his  waist  to save people in the wreckage . He saw first  hand the destruction,  death  and mangled bodies of  men, women and children.
         Charles  Collins had worked for the railroad for thirty years.  He took pride in his work. Under him, the railroad and bridges were kept in pristine condition and  inspected  regular-ly.
          Mr.  Collins  was  born  in  Richmond,  New  York in 1826. He was from an old and highly respected  family.  He  graduated  from  Renssaeler  Polytechnic Institute. He had worked in various parts of New England and had charge of some  important  work  on  the  Boston  and Albany railroad.  He came to northeastern Ohio in 1849 to take charge of locating the C. C. C. & I. railroad.  He was then superintendent of the Painsville & Ashtabula railroad.  When the Painsville  &  Ashtabula Railroad consolidated  with  the L. S. & M. S. railroad, he was given the position of chief engineer.
           Days after the disaster, Charles  Collins was in a weakened state of mind.  He had wept like a baby in front of the press.  His  family  and  friends were concerned about him over his weakened state of mind.
           Charles  Collins  was a gentle,  sensitive man.  He was filled with so much emotion over the disaster that he was subject to outbursts of grief.
           On  New  Year's  day,  he  was  staying  at  his  wife's  parent's  house  on  the east side of Ashtabula.  That morning he stepped outside the house to get some air before breakfast. The coachman who was passing  by the house, wished Charles  a  happy  New  Year.  He returned the greeting then went inside to sit down to breakfast. As he sat down at the breakfast table, emotion  began  to  over  take him.  He burst  into tears and  covered his  face with his hands. Once he was able to overcome his emotions,  he  said  to  his  wife,  "John bid me a happy New Year this morning, but how can it be a happy New Year to me?"
         Charles  Collins  state  of  mind  grew worse as the days passed. He tendered his resigna-tion the  Board  of  Directors.  With tears in his eyes he said,  " I have worked for thirty years, with  what  fidelity  God knows,  for the protection  and the safety of the public, and now the public, forgetting all these years of service, has turned against me."
        The resignation was not accepted. He was assured that his view was entirely unjust and unworthy by the board.
        Charles' state of mind grew worse.  He had stopped eating and sleep became almost non-existant.
         Two  days  later,  on  a  Wednesday,  Charles  was   scheduled to go on an inspection. His trusted assistant, Mr. Brewer, was to go with him.
         That night, Charles packed his traveling bag in preparation of his trip. He prepared for bed and  carefully  laid  his  clothes  out.   Unable  to  sleep,  the  train  disaster  undoubtedly weighed  heavily  on  his  heart.  His  wife and family were in Ashtabula at her parents house where he and his family spent a great deal of time.
          At his home on St. Clair Street.  in  Cleveland,  he  had  came  in  late.  The  colored  man servant,  who had quarters to the rear of  the  house,  was  unaware   that  Charles  had  came home.
          As  the  thoughts  of  the train disaster ran through his mind, he probably lie there com-plicating what entered his mind several times before.   At  the peak of his insanity,  he sat up in bed,  picked  up  his  revolver,   placed  the  revolver in his mouth with the barrel pointing toward the roof of his mouth, and pulled the trigger or so it was thought at the time.
          Mr. Brewer,  who was to go with Charles on the inspection, never heard from him.  After two  days,  Mr.   Brewer  thought  he  might  be  in  Ashtabula with his family. After getting in touch with his family in Ashtabula, he learned that he was not in Ashtabula.  Becoming con-cerned,  he  went  to  Charles'  house  on  St.  Clair  St.  Upon  arriving,  he  asked  the  colored servant if he had seen Mr. Collins. When the colored servant stated that he had not seen him in days,  they went inside to the  bedroom where they found  Charles' body with the gun still in his hand.
           Charles Collins was 51 years old at the time.  He is buried in  Chestnut  Grove Cemetery in Ashtabula.