“Mourning at the Dixon Home”

The latest installment of our WARHorse series “History’s Horses” posts of vintage newspaper clippings covering on all things horse. Topically some articles are titillating perhaps even a bit gruesome given modern journalism standards. However, while the subjects maybe difficult we find the writing style charming, perhaps a bit disarming, but interesting nonetheless. We hope you enjoy reading these horse related news posts of days gone by.

Pottsville, Pennsylvania

FRIENDS VIEWING THE BODIES OF THE VICTIMS OF THE RAILROAD ACCIDENT.

AUG 9, POTTSVILLE, PA: The humble home of ANTHONY DIXON, at Dean’s Patch, near Lost Creek, which yesterday was so suddenly transformed into one of the deepest sorrow and mourning by the killing of four members of the family while crossing the railroad track at Connor colliery, is to-day an object of curiosity. A constant stream of sympathizing friends and neighbors have been pouring in and out of the house, taking a hurried glance at the unrecognizable features of the victims, whose bodies lay side by side in the same room. On the first floor in the second story, terribly bruised and cut, lies MISS JENNIE DIXON, who was fatally injured. Everything that medical skill can do is being done for the unfortunate girl. She bears up remarkably well, and at times forgets her own suffering and bitterly weeps at the loss of her mother. MRS. MARTIN DIXON was the mother of six children, the youngest being only 4 months old, an interesting little boy, who sat in its mother’s lap in the ill-fated carriage at the time of the accident, but escaped uninjured. Its escape is due to the fact that the mother fully realized their perilous position, and a moment before the crash came she gently threw the little baby out of the carriage window. It fell on a soft coal-dirt bank, which at that point rises some feet above the level of the road, where it was picked up by those who rushed to the scene. The other children, together with those of ANTHONY DIXON, constantly linger around and about the side of the caskets, while MARTIN DIXON, who made such a heroic effort to rein in the unmanageable horses, paces the floor almost frantic with grief.

The death of MRS. DIXON is peculiarly sad. She was well advanced in years, and was walking home when she was overtaken by the carriage into which she was invited. This took place not more than 50 yards from where the collision occurred. The funerals of the victims will take place to-morrow afternoon.