Death stalks the rails-

the Chatsworth Train Wreck

By Stu Fliege

From the Champaign NewsGazette

August 6, 1999

A severe drought gripped the Midwest during the summer of 1887. By August, the newspapers were reporting that cornfields were dry beyond recovery. The drought was so severe that the papers reported every sporadic localized shower.

The papers also reported that railroad section workers were kept busy putting out fires caused by sparks. Some sectin hands, however, took advantage of the dry foliage to burn pesky weeds along the tracks.

On Aug. 10, 1887, workers had been burning weeds along a part of the Toledo, Peoria, and Western (T.P.& W.) Railroad. The workers later claimed that all such fires had been extinguished before they quit for the day. During the night, however, a small bridge close to where the men had been working smoldered and caught fire. Whether the fire started as a result of the burning by the workers or whether it ignited from sparks scattered by a passing steam engine will never be known.

But by midnight, the fire had sapped the strength of a 15-foot trestle bridge located just west of the Ford-Livingston county line. Heading fatefully toward the bridge a few minutes before midnight was a large T.P.&W. excursion train.

In the second half of the 19th century, excursion trains were extremely popular. they provided a welcome respite for hard-working Midwesterners. Among the most popular excursions were trips to Niagara Falls.

When the T.P.&W. posted handbills advertising an excursion to the Falls in the summer of 1887, hundreds of individuals eagerly responded. A round-trip ticket cost $7.50

The 239 miles of the T.P.&W. stretched across Illinois from Warsaw, on the Mississippi; through Peoria; to a town called State Line (now Effner), on the Indiana border. Still in operation today, the T.P.&W. in 1887 was a busy and important railroad, providing a valuable east-west service to Illinois. Its initials led to the nick-name Tip-Up.

As advertised, the Niagara Special started at LaHarpe in Hancock County. A large throng of happy travelers, many from nearby Galesburg and the state of Iowa, was on board. Fatefully perhaps, the train was being pulled by Engine No. 13.

As it chugged eastward, the train collected riders from small towns along the route. It was a fairly large train with 15 coaches when it steamed into Peoria in the early evening. At the Peoria station, swithcmen added several coaches, and a large number of passengers boarded.

After the train crossed the Illinois River over a draw-bridge, another locomotive, Engine 21, was coupled to the front of Engine 13. The train now consisted to two locomotives pulling at least 20 cars with about 800 passengers aboard.

With all the stops and coupling of cars, the train had fallen two hours behind schedule. It was nearly midnight when the train arrived at Chatsworth, 70 miles east of Peoria.

After a brief stop, the train left the depot and began picking up steam. Two miles to the east, as Engine 21 crested a small rise, the engineer saw flames between the rails. To his horror, he realized the trestle was buring. He also realized that he had far too little time and space to stop the train.

As Engine 21 passed over the trestle, the engineer "felt the engine sink a little and felt a schock," but his locomotive made it across before coming to a stop.

As Engine 13 was crossing, however, the bridge collapsed. The engine turned over and skidded along the ground. What followed constituted moments of infinite horror.

With a speed of about 25 miles an hour, the heavy coaches filled with people crashed, first into Engine 13 and then into each other. A roar of grinding and splintering and a distinct "swishing" sound erupted in the night. Even in the darkness, some would recall a boiling cloud of soot, cinders, ashes and dust.

The cars crashed with a telescoping effect, each car slicing into the car in front. The telescoping effect produced a grisly toll. Within seconds, large numbers of passengers were sliced to pieces and parts of bodies strewn asunder. Many were crushed to instant death.

As the wreckage shuddered to a stop, 11 coaches occupied the space formerly necessary for two. Immediately, a cacophony of human wails arose, and survivors began to grope about in the darkness. Terrible mass confusion followed.

Lightning flashed in the distance.

The engineer in Engine 21 climbed down out of his cab to witness the unbelievable carnage looming in the darkness. Two firemen then rushed the locomotive east to Piper City, whistle blowing, to carry the awful news.

A brakeman ran back to Chatsworth, where he yelled, "The excursion train is out there in the ditch, and I'm afraid it will catch fire."

And the wreckage had caught fire. Many survivors along with some early arrivals, however managed to contain the fire by using their bare hands to claw dirt to throw on the flames.

From Chatsworth and Piper City, word went out via telegraph lines. In amazingly little time relief trains were on their way.

Then at 3 a.m., torrents of rain fell. The drought was over. The rain prevented any possible conflagration, but it also transformed the nearby fields and dirt roads into seas of mud.

By morning Chatsworth was swarming with masses of rescuers and sight-seers. During the next two days, the gruesome task of extracting and identifying the dead was carried out. The slicing and smashing of the coaches had made the task all but impossible. Newspaper reports repeatedly used the word "pulp" to describe human remains.

Chatsworth's buildings became temporary morgues. So pressing was the push of crowds to view the remains that armed guards were posted at the doors. Fanned by sensational newspaper reports, vicious rumors and wild stories circulated about the calamity, including exaggerated reports that the dead had been looted and that the fire had been set on purpose.

A section foremen was arrested and blamed for the fire, but he was later released. In the end, the exact cause was never determined.

In the days following the wreck, relief trains headed west from Chatsworth. Some carried the stunned survivors home, and some were filled with coffins.

Reports on the number of casualties vary widely, but the 1888 Illinois Warehouse and Railroad Commission Report lists 81 dead and 140 wounded as a result of one of Illinois' worst disasters.

Note at bottom of page:

Extra Reading:Cary Clive Burford. The Chatsworth Wreck:A Saga of Excursion Train Travel. 1949

Stuart Fliege, who lives in Springfield is a retired high school teacher with a mister's degree in history.