31 lives were lost in Gasconade tragedy
By Anna Lee Frohlich
Thomas Allen’s timing was right. During his term as president of the fledgling Pacific Railroad, he served in the Missouri State Senate from 1850-1854 doing much to advance the future of railroads in that state. In 1854 he declined re-nomination to the Senate and retired from the presidency of the railroad. For the next few years he concentrated on private affairs and improving his property in St. Louis.
On the first of November 1855, the citizens of St. Louis turned out to celebrate a railroading landmark much as they had four years and four months before on a beautiful Fourth of July in 1851 when they celebrated the groundbreaking of the Pacific Railroad. Again there was band music, and the gathered crowd cheered the departure of the first train to Jefferson City, Missouri’s capital 125 miles to the west. This was the first major stop on the railroad’s journey to the western border of the state and hopefully to the Pacific Coast. The name of the railroad reflected the dream, as did the names of many future railroads harboring the same goal.
“We tried to spare effort and met disaster.”
– Henri Petain
(From here accounts vary, so this is pieced together as accurately as possible.)
The plan had been to stop the train before the Gasconade River Bridge to show the passengers the new structure, 760 feet long, but, as they were behind schedule, the fateful decision was made to proceed over the bridge without pausing. As the train moved over the river at a speed later estimated to be about 15 miles-per-hour, the temporary wooden trestle work between the east side of the river and the first pier was unable to hold. The bridge collapsed when the engine reached the first pillar, pulling seven passenger cars 36 feet down into the river. Other cars fell down the embankment that curved toward the bridge leaving only one of 14-passenger cars on the tracks and the engine with its wheels upward facing the opposite direction than it had been going.
About 31 people were killed, and scores were seriously injured. Those people not as badly off came to the aid of those in most need, attempting to answer cries for help and to extricate victims from the splintered and twisted remains of the cars. While people were fighting for their lives or helping others, heavy rain and thunder continued. “Survivors of the catastrophe remembered the scene as one weird and awful beyond description,” one report said.
Thomas O’Sullivan, the chief engineer of the Pacific Railroad and the husband of one of Thomas Allen’s sisters, was killed, as were men who had played an important part in the history of St. Louis. There is no record of whether Thomas Allen was on board.
Hudson E. Bridge who succxeeded Allen as president of the Pacific Railroad was in the engine but was not seriously harmed.
The hapless passengers, suffering from exposure, were met by a rescue train from Hermann. Heading back toward St. Louis they encountered a rain-swollen St. John’s Creek. The passengers who could walk crossed the bridge on foot. As that point the bridge collapsed. The train retreated to Miller’s Landing. While the citizens of that town awaited a steamboat to take it’s sad burden to St. Louis, the people of the landing built 31 coffins and prepared the dead for burial. Others cared for the wounded. The mayor of St. Louis declared Nov. 5 a day of citywide mourning and prayer.
The chief engineer, Thomas O’Sullivan, had passed over the bridge the night before on a heavily loaded gravel train at about 4 miles-per-hour. The train was heavier, but the engine was much lighter than the Pacific. He had returned with an unloaded train crossing the bridge at about 12 miles-per-hour. This experience had made him believe the bridge was safe.
Later in November, the directors of the Railroad appointed a commission to study the causes of the disaster. The majority report concluded, “We are therefore of the opinion that the immediate cause of the disaster was the high rate of speed at which the train was moving at the time of the accident.” The minority report was harsh and quite different: “The cause of the disaster was the breakage of the wooden structure in and the superstructure over the bay between the eastern abutment and next pier west, a consequence of their entire insufficiency.” It also maintains that running a train full of people over the bridge could “only be ascribed to incompetency, recklessness, and infatuation.”
Regardless of the accident and the conclusions, the town of St. Louis did not give up its love affair with railroads and neither did Thomas Allen.
