The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1883-10-17
Chased by an Avalanche Of Flame.

the papers the story OF that ride l had
from Prospect to Brocton in 1862"
The speaker was Duff Brown, an old
locomotive engineer, who was lying at his
home in Portland, this county, dying with
consumption. This was several weeks
ago. On the 7th of this month he died.
He was nearly sixty years old. His story
of the awful ride is this;
ain 1869 was running mixed train
on the Buffalo, Cory and Erie railway.
The track between Prospect or Mayville
Summit and Brocton junction is so
crooked that, while the distance is actu-
ally only ten miles, the curves make it by
rail fourteen. The grade for the whole
distance is over seventy feet to the mile.
"About nine o'clock on the night of
August II, 1869, we reached the Summit
with train of two passenger cars, six oil
cars, and a box car. The latter contained
two valuable horses, and their keepers
with them, on their way, l believe, to the
Cleveland meeting. There were fifty or
sixty passengers in the two cars. l got
the signal from the conductor to start,
and pulled out. We had got under con-
siderable Roadway, when, looking back, l
saw that an oil car in the middle of the
train was on fire. reversed my engine
and whistled for brakes. The conductor
and brakemen jumped off. They uncoup-
led the passenger cars and set the brakes
on them, bringing them to stop. Sup
posing that the brakes on the burning oil
cars would also be put on, called to a
brakeman on the box car to draw the
coupling pin between that car and the
head oil tank, backing so that he could do
it, intending to run far enough away to
save the box car and locomotive. As |
ran on down the hill, after the pin had
been drawn, what was my horror to see
that the burning cars were following me
at speed that was rapidly increasing.
The men had not succeeded in putting on
the brakes. saw that the only thing to
be done was to run for it to Brocton, and
the chances were that we would never
reach there at the speed which we would
be obliged to make around those sharp re-
verse curves, where we had never run
over twenty miles an hour.
"When l saw the flaming cars-for the
whole six were on fire by this time
plunging after me, and only few feet
away, pulled the throttle open. The
oil cars caught me, though, before got
away. They came with full force against
the rear of the box car, smashing in one
end and knocking the horses and their
keepers fat on the floor. The heat was
almost unbearable, and, do my best, 1
couldn't place more than thirty feet be-
tween the pursuing column of fire and
ourselves. But the light from the furnace,
as my fireman opened the door to pile in
the coal, caught sight of the face of one
of the horsemen in the box car, he having
climbed up to the grated opening in the
end. 1t was as pale as death, and he
begged me for Gods sake to give her
more steam. / was giving her then all
the steam she could carry, and the grade
itself was enough to carry us down at the
rate of fifty miles an hour. We went 80
fast that the engine couldn't pump. Every
time we struck one of those curves the
old girl would almost run on one set of
wheels, and why in the world she didn't
topple over is something / never could
understand. She seemed to know that it
was race of life and death, and worked
as if she were alive.
"The night was dark, and the road ran
through woods, deep rock cuts, and along
high entertainments. There we were, thun-
dering along at lightning speed, and, only
few PAGES behind US, that fiery demon
in full pursuit. There were fifty thou
sand gallons of oil in those tanks, at least,
and it was all in flame, making a flying
avalanche of fire five hundred feet long.
The flames leaped into the air nearly a
hundred feet. The roar was like that of
some great cataract. Now and then q
tank would explode with a noise like q
cannon, when a column of flame and
pitchy smoke would mount high above
the body of the flames, and showers of
burning oil would be scattered about in
the woods. The whole country was lighted
up for miles around.
We'll, it wasn't long, going at the rate
we made, before the lights of Brocton
came in sight down in the valley. The
relief felt when these came in view was
short-lived, for remembered that train
No. 8, on the Lake Shore, would be due
at the junction just about the time we
would reach it. No. was the Cincinnati
express. Our only hope, all along during
the race, had been that the switchman al
the junction would think far enough to
open the switch there, connecting the
cross-cut track with the Lake Shore track
and let us run in on the latter, where the
grade would be against US, if anything
and where we could soon get out of the way
of the oil cars. The switch, of course, would
be closed now for the express, and our last
hope was gone, unless the express was
late, or somebody had sense enough to
flag it. While we were thinking of this
we saw the express tearing along toward
the junction. Could we reach the juno
ton, set the switch, and the switch be sci
back for the express before the latter go'
there If not, there would be an inevita
BILE crash, in which not only we, but prob
ably scores of others, would be crushed te
death. All this conjecturing did not oc
cupy two seconds, but in that two seconds
lived years.
"Good God I said to my fireman
what are we to do now p
"The fireman promptly replied-ant
he was brave little fellow-that should
whistle for the switch and take the
chances. l did so. That whistle was on,
prolonged yell of agony. 1t was shriel
that seemed to tell us that our brave ole
engine knew our danger and had her fears
Neither the fireman nor myself spoke an
other word.
Thanks be to God The engineer OF
the express train, seeing us tearing dow