"The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." JAB. 5,-16. "And I will show Thee my faith by my works." Jas. 2,-16, MRS. C. H. SCOTT. Copyright, 1877. by John Church & Co. When My Weary Hands are Foided. "When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee." ISA. 43,-2. As I rise to join the chorus of the blood-washed, holy throng. 4. But if one poor tired wand'rer shall be guided home by me, 5. When among the ransomed millions, by His grace redeemed I stand, Copyright, 1877, by John Church & Co. CHAPTER XXIV. THE DISASTER AT ASHTABULA-THE NEWSPAPER ACCOUNTS-THE STORY OF AN EYE-WITNESS-MR. BLISS GOES BACK TO SAVE HIS WIFE AND IS BURNED TO DEATH. THE HE railroad train on which Mr. and Mrs. Bliss rode to their death left Buffalo, New York, on Friday afternoon, December 29, 1876. At eight o'clock that evening, while approaching Ashtabula station, and crossing a ravine, the bridge gave way, and the train, with its precious freight of human lives, was precipitated to the bottom. Fresh as is the memory of this horror in the minds of all, the newspaper accounts given at the time will be read now with renewed interest, and fittingly form a part of the record made in these pages. [Dispatch to the Chicago Tribune.] ASHTABULA, OHIO, December 30, 1876. The proportions of the Ashtabula horror are now approximately known. Daylight, which gave an opportunity to find and enumerate the saved, reveals the fact that two out of every three passengers on the fated train are lost. Of the 160 passengers whom the maimed conductor reports as having been on board, but fifty-nine can be found or accounted for. The remaining 100, burned to ashes or shapeless lumps of charred flesh, lie under the ruins of the bridge and train. The disaster was dramatically complete. No element of horror was wanting. First, the crash of the bridge, the agonizing moments of suspense as the seven laden cars plunged down their fearful leap to the icy river-bed; then the fire which came to devour all that had been left alive by the crash; then the water, which gurgled up from under the broken ice and offered another form of death; and, finally, the biting blast filled with snow, which froze and benumbed those who had escaped water and fire. It was an ideal tragedy. The scene of the accident was the valley of the creek which, flowing down past the eastern margin of Ashtabula village, passes under the railway three or four hundred yards east of the station. Here for many years after the Lake Shore road was built there was a long wooden trestle-work, but as the road was improved this was superseded about ten years ago with an iron Howe truss, |