The thought of an old-fashioned sleigh ride usually provokes pastoral visions of moonlit scenes from Currier and Ives prints. But sleigh rides could also turn into disasters. That’s what happened one afternoon a century ago when a runaway horse dragging a sleigh raced through downtown Bangor smashing everything in its path.

Listen to an old-time Bangor Daily News reporter tell most of this tragi-comic tale. I wish I knew his name to give him credit for his lively writing, which brings Bangor’s old days back to life.

“Speeding down Hammond Street hill like a shadow came a black horse early Tuesday afternoon [Jan. 31, 1905]. Behind him trailed an overturned sleigh, kicking up a great cloud of snow from 10 to 15 feet high. Warning screams came from the top of the hill and the shout was taken up and carried along into West Market Square,” the reporter wrote.

“The usual afternoon traffic was placidly proceeding at Pol’s corner [Hammond and Main streets]. Many sleighs were coming and going and the usual nest of public carriages was hovering along the curbs. With the first warning shout, however, came a scramble. Men looked up the hill and that one glance was enough.

“Horses were pulled up on their haunches and public carriages took to the sidewalks in a mad endeavor to get out of the way. Pedestrians shot into doorways and in a twinkling the path was clear.”

One sleigh driver hadn’t gotten the message in time, however. Joseph Budro was turning onto Hammond from Main Street with his passenger, Mrs. Ella Dowling, in a handsome new sleigh drawn by a valuable horse. Appearing “a trifle dazed,” he reined up and stood still.

The reporter continued: “A frantic warning was screamed as the black steed came plunging wildly down – then a terrific crash was heard, a geyser of snow rose into the air and under it could be seen the wreckage and a prostrate figure.

” ‘She’s killed,’ yelled a man, and the big crowd forgot about the horse and ran over to the spot.”

Both Budro and Dowling, however, miraculously emerged unscathed, but badly shaken. The sleigh was “split into slivers,” reduced to its iron frame and runners. While Budro looked after the horse, Mrs. Dowling was assisted to a nearby store.

The horse opera continued.

“[The runaway] ran straight for Robinson’s corner and brought up with a crash against the side of the building. There he slipped and went down. Two men who were standing near didn’t have presence of mind enough to jump on to his head. So he picked himself up and started down Broad Street on the sidewalk.

“He knocked a sign down in front of the Western Union, stove in a big plate glass window at W.P. Dickey’s, burst open a half dozen bags of cotton seed in front of Dunning’s which spattered the sidewalk for 100 feet. The sleigh was held by an obstruction in front of Snow & Nealley’s, but the horse broke loose and kept right on going. Every post along Broad Street had part of the sleigh sticking to it as a souvenir.

“The last seen of the nag he was racing through Front Street and it is expected that by this time he is approaching Boston.”

Remember, this was back in the days when newsmen were paid a little extra to liven up their copy with a little humor or a lot of melodrama without making up too many facts.

Finally, the reporter took his readers back to the top of Hammond Street hill where the chaotic events began. The owner of the horse was Jonathan Y. Ricker, treasurer of The Rines Company, a dry goods store at 43 Main St. It was attached to “a handsome, high-backed basket sleigh.”

In the sleigh at the time of the crash were Mrs. Ricker and Frank Kelley, the Ricker’s coachman. Both were thrown out, again miraculously, neither was hurt. Kelley jumped into a passing sleigh down the hill in pursuit of “the crazy animal.”

Needless to say, this was not an everyday event, although runaway horses were a worry at all seasons of the year. “It was the most furious runaway for the winter, and the most spectacular that Bangor has seen in a long time,” the reporter concluded.

The grim reality of transportation perils back then – whether by boat, train or horse – was borne out in a story splashed on the front page of the NEWS on Feb. 2, two days after the Hammond Street collision. Nine women had been killed when their sleigh, carrying 13 members of the Ladies Aid Society of the Universalist Church in Hornellsville, N.Y., was hit by a passenger train.

And of course, a few automobiles were already speeding down the narrow dirt roads, belching and snarling, spooking horses and causing even more accidents.

There already were occasional reports of fatal motor vehicle accidents involving people with Maine ties. The death of James D. Lazell of New York, president of the General Alumni Association of the University of Maine, surely was one of the first. He was killed in an automobile accident in Philadelphia, which was reported in the NEWS a few days later on Feb. 11.

Wayne E. Reilly has edited two books of Civil War era diaries and letters including “The Diaries of Sarah Jane and Emma Ann Foster: A Year in Maine During the Civil War.” He can be reached at wreilly@bangordailynews.net.