University of South Carolina Libraries
iihi jujii JII _? N *. -t **! ; ? ' k" 4 - " ^ V w",' ^ - > . k v Droolrlr la Jlnws, polilks, 3ttkUigmct, &vto i\)t Jmpvooaiuni of i\)t Slalt aul* Counlnj. JOHN C. BAILEY, PRO'R. - GREENVILLE. SOUTH CAROLINA, OCTOBER ?. 1871. VOLUME XVI1I-N0. 86. * MARSHALL & MAULDIN, SUCCESSORS TO Harrison & Marshall, INFORM THEIR FRIENDS AND PATRONS THAT THEY WILL CONTINUE THE DRUG AND BOOK BUSINESS, AT THE SSiTTAIBirM WITHOUT INTERRUPTION. TOEY W3UL KEEP A IFOOLiL ?T??K OF RELIABLE GOODS, . AT FAIlt PRICES, And will offer for sale NO SPURIOUS GOODS. MANY ARTICLES ARE NOW BEING OFFERED AT Greatly Reduced Prices. S. 8. Marshall. W. L. Mauldin. S*pl 20 20 tl FINANCIAL. I THE UNDERSIGNED WILL BUY AN!) SELL GOLD AND SILVER. ALSO, BUY AND SELL EXCHJIJVGE ON New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Charleston, AND OTIIEIt CITIES. T. W. DAVIS. Grccnvillo, S. C., Juno 0, 1871. June 7 5 tf COTTON TIES" WE ARE AGENTS FOR THE MANUFACTURERS FoR Eureka, flwett, Arrow, A _ ' "1 * - - iincnor ana Jiutter ALSO OF THK PATENT LOCK TIE. IU^T l?* ding. 4.WO bundles of the EU RKKA nn-t MK K TIKS. N<? 'lie compute with the Eurek* f?r simplicity mid diunhihly, and we offer lias a Ti- tliatl. unexcelled The Anow is sbo well known W, ?>k your order*, guaranteeing as low price* as i li* y ean he pui chased si tn any 8-u. hern port. We shall be pleased to hsi.dle consignroe lit ol your oollon, end will give sll eliip iiieuts our cl??se-t aiteiition. GEO. W. WILLIAMS & CO,. COTToN FAOTOHS, Church St., C1IARLEST0X, S. C Bepl 27 21 2m BJl TJES VILLE SniRTING AND YARN. HA VINO been appointed AGENT fir the above GOODS, parties deMrirjr to putcbnse will find a supply ami hatid at all times at Factory prices BOLD ONLY BY HIE FULL PACK AO E. JULIUS C. SMITH. 8*'P 0 18 tf 1871. *?">radc. 1871 ET01S2 G01S3 '60132 TAOIJULK and Single Itarral (luna, BreechJJ loading and Muule-loadtng Gone, of Kiiglieh, French and Gorman manufacture, at all prioee. Single (June at *2.69, $4.00, $0.00, $8.00, $12.00 to $20.00 eueh j Double Gnna from $7.00 to $200.00 each. IPaST?lL? 1 i Smith A Waaaoa, Coll'a, Allen'n, Sharp'*, and all the popular and approved bind*. SPORTSMAN'S GOODS of groat variety. For dune, Pietoia and Riflca. BEST QUALITY AND AT LOWEST PRM5I8. Country merobauia and aportamen are lorited to call and eiamide our large and wall acleeted atock of the wheve good*, which we import direct and buy from the manufacture . Ordera by mail filled promptly, and aont by eapreas, 0. O. D. POULTNEY, TRIMBLE 8L CO., 200 W. BALTIMORE STHKKT, BALTIMORE. MD. Mar 11 S lft-d 40 Jy .... .-a..., , tor sale. DUNDEE and GUNNY BAGGING. Hale* of ?lba DUNDEE CLOTH. Ba*m of GUNNY CLOTH. JULIUS C. 8MITII. Sept. 20 20 it Notice. ALL PERSONS INDEBTED to the late WILLIAM H. HOVEY, are rcqneated to coma forward and make PAYMENTS to the Subscriber, and all those having any DE? M ANDS against hia Estate, are hereby uotifled to preeunt them for settlement. M. M. IIOVBY. Adaiiniitrator with Will annaxed. Greenville, S. C., September 20, 1871 20-tf /-Ni 2-^ %r *-r w vr ? WW ? UKKKNYILLK UNIMPROVED LOTS FOR SALE. OFFERED AT PRIVATE SALE, a number of Lots of Lnnd on the New Extension of WASHINGTON STREET Leading from Main Street to the AIR-LINE RAILROAD Also LOIS on West Street and Johns Street, (the latter soon to be opened) which run parallel to WASHIttGTOX STREET. These LOIS variously range from a distance of about BOO VARUS OR MAM STREET TO UALF MILE AND UPWARDS. ALSO NUMBER OF LOTS WEST OF THE RIVER, ADJACENT TO THE LOTS OF B. Howard, Col. War? AND JUDGE POUTHIT. THE LOTS OFFERED FMDRACK SOME OF 1IIE FINEST AND MOST B EAUTIFUL SITUATIONS Foil IN TI1K CITY OF GREENVILLE, AND WILL BK DISl?OSRD OF ON TERMS THAT WQLL #BT1IFY FIltHlSEHS 1IVISTIIS For further particulars apply to ] JOHN WESTFIELD, or GEN. W. K. EASLET. Sept 27 21 tt Tko only Reliable Gift Dirtribution in the Country. $60,000.00 IN VALUABLE GIFTS To be diairituto'l in &. E>. ?aaaa*? 162nd Rcgutar Monthly GIFT ENTEBFBISE, To bo drawn Monday, Not. 27tb, 1871. TWO 0 HAND CAPITALS OF $5 OOO Each in Greenbacks! Two Primes of $1,000 ; Fire Primes of $600; Ten Primes of $100: each in Greenbacks I Whole number of eaab Rifts, 1,000. One Horse and Buggy, With silver-mounted Harness, worth $000; one One-toned Rosewood Piano, worth $600; ten {pmily Sewing Machines, worth $100 eaoh ; Ova heavy cased uuhi jiununjr nyouM Ana heavy Gold Cbtlns, worth $300 each ; Are Gold American Hunting Watches, worth $133 each; terv Ladies' Gold Hcnting Watehss, worth $100 each ; 800 Oold and Silver Lever Hunting Watches, (in all) worth from $30 to $300 each ; Ladies' Gold Leontine Chains, Gent's Gold Vest Chains, Silver-plated Castors, Solid Silver and Donhleoplated Table and Teaspoons, Ivoryhandled Dinner Knives, Silver plated Dinner Forks, Silver Vest Chains, Photograph Albums, Ladies' Gold Breastpins and Kar-rioga, Grots' Gold Breaaipios, Sbirt Studs and Sleeve Buttons, Finger-rings, Gold Psas, (silver extension,) etc. Whole number Gifts, A,000, Tickets limited to 6Q.000. A grata wanted to tell Tiektlt, to vAoa liberal Prtmtumt tcill it paid. Single tickets, $1 j six tickets, $3, twelve tickets, $10 ; Twenty-Are ticket#, $30. Circulars oontaining a fnll list of prises, a description of the manher of drawing, and other information in reference to the distribution, will bo sent to any one ordering themAll letters must bo addressed to I* D. SDK. Bex $$, Office, 101 W. 5th St. Cincinnati, O. Pot? ft? 7 HviMiirnoii Two Dollar* par annum. ADTMnaa?i)iM Inserted at the rates of on* dollar par square of twelve Minion linaa (tbla a!a? \ typo) or Icaa for ill* first insertion, fifty eonta each for tb* aoeond and third insertions, and tweaty-ftra eeato for subsequent Insertion*. Yearly oontraata will bo mad*. All edeertlee meats mart bar* tb* nnmbev ?f insertions marked on them, or tbey will U inxertod till ordered out, and charged for. Vnloaa ordered otborwia*, Adrortiaeiaonta will invariably bo "displayed." Obitnary notices, and all mattora inuring to to lb* benefit of any one, are regardeq a* Advertisements. REMINISGENCKS or TBS CQUH1Y QFGREENVlLLEi BT KX GOVERNOR B. F. PERKY. [continued from last wkfk ] BATLI8 J. EABLE. Judge Earlc was the eldest son of the Honorable Samuel Earle, ot Pendleton District, South Carolina, a gallant Revolutionary officer, and member of Congress, representing the whole Westorn portion of the State in 1706. lie was a man of large fortune for the upper country, and self educated. In his intci course with public men, whilst in Congress, he felt keenly the defects of his early education, and determined to give all of his s*'its every advantage which schools and colleges could b? atow. lie was a man of high and pure character, but most eccentric in the latter part of his life. Having 6erved Ins State in the Legislature, in the Convention which adopted the Federal Constitution, and in the United States Congress, he vol uutarily withdrew from public life, and dovoted himself to the management of his various farms in Pendleton ni.d Greenville. lie lived t<> an old age, and in great retirement, joined the Baptist Church, and was much esteemed by his neighbors. I lead Taw threo years in the oflice of Judge Earle, who was then Solicitor of the Western Circuit, and I am indebted to him for intiny acts of kindness and favors shown ine. Ho was a man of very superior endowments by nature, and highly accomplished as a writer and speaker. In person he was strikingly handsome, manly, and beautiful, if the term can be ap plied to a gentleman. But there was nothing of vanity about him, on account of hie tine appearance, lie did not seem to regard it at all, but rather disliked any compliment on that account. He was, however, a man of great pride of character, and diguificd in his maimers. I once heard Judge U uger say of him, before bia elevation to the bench, that his manners were more judicial than any one he had ever met. He was a fine scholar, and possessed great literary taste, lie epoko and wrote with great accuracy and purity.? There was nothing ornate or pretentions in his stjle. lie had takeu Addison as his model when a student, and all of his writings were marked for their clearness, purity, and simplicity. lie seldom indulged in metaphors or figures of speech. Judge Earlc graduated in the South Carolina College, at sixteen, and took the first honors ot Lis class, which was one of great talent and scholarship. But none of his class even competed with him for the first honor. He was the youngest member of his class, and the first scholar In it. He read law with John Taylor, then Solicitor ot the Western Circuit, and afterwards a member ot Congress from the Districts ot Pendleton and Greenville. At twenty-one, he was admitted to the bar, and established himself at Greenville.? He represented the District two years in the Legislature, and was then elected Solicitor by a very largo majority over Chancellor Bowie, of Alabama. Until his election as Solicitor, such was his diffidence and modesty, that Le scarcely attempted to make a speech at the bar. After this, he W&A to or.mo ltta fgy MV UiO DWOIUII9 business, and made the model ot a prosecuting officer. Ho presented the facta ot the case clearly .and succinctly, referred to the law correctly, and left tbe jury to deoide the*case under the iuatmotloas ot the Judge, tie bad one ot the fairest minds that 1 have ever khown, and his judgment was always dispassionate, lie never urged the conviction of a criminal unless the circumstances warranted it. W here the guilt of the prisoner wss the settled conviction of his mind, he always presented the circumstances ot the case with great ioroe and clearness. He was always well prepared in his sessions business, and did not pre* sent more witnesses than were ne cessary io making out the case in tbc first instauce, reserving the others for the reply. In tbe trial of Sims at Newberry, for tbe murder of bis father, although tbe evi | dence was circumstantial and myaI iei ious, he was satisfied of his gt.tlt, and thought the crime eo horrible (bat i.e should not esca)>e punish* ment. lie argned the case with great ability, and preseuted the facts and circumstances in tnch a way as forced the jury to a couviclion. Judge Earle was a vory voting man when elected to the bench. There were two vacancies to lie filled and fonr p#nHiHu?n? was elected on the first ballot, and Jndgo Martin on the second or third ballot. Thongh young, he proved himself the equal of his learned associates, and hi* written judicial opinions in the Court of Appeals will compare well with those of any other judge on the bench. Perhaps in style and com position, they are superior, if not equal in learning and research, to those of older judges. In college he must have been a hard student to have won the honors he did in i such a graduating class, but in after life he was very remiss in his studies and did not devote himself to { his profession as he should have done. I never saw Judge Earle, for three years whilst in his office, read law except to hunt up authority in his cases in court. He was a great reader of novels and polite literature, fond of the society of bis friends and associates, and devoted to making money, though he had i either wife nor child to inh?rit hia fortune. In fuct, Judge Earle had but little time to read and study after my acquaintance with him. Ilia circuit occupied him six or aeven weeks in the fall and spring. He had to attend the Court of Appeals twico every j'ear, and the sitting of the Legislature. In the latter part of the summer, which was the only recreation he had, he generally traveled North, or went to some watering place.? Hence, his time was almost constantly occupied, to the exclusion of those studies to which he might otherwise have devoted himself. Jud^e Earle was, as 1 have already intimated, a most conscientious and honorable man, despising all i iieanness, deception and flattery. He was fair and open in all his conduct, and never took an advantage in private or public.? Nothing conld induce him to show respect or confidence where be did not think it was deserved. He was a man of great sensibility, at all times, and frequently morbid in his feelings. Ordinarily, his manners were courteous and cordial, but sometimes in his morbid moods, he seemed careless of the ordinary civilities of life, and rude to his best friends. He would pass them, or meet them as if he did not wish to speak to them, or notice them. On one occasion he passed a very intimate acquaintance without noticing hiin, who afterwards said to hitn, when they met again cordially, " I wish you would give your friends some intimation before band, when you are At A " uui. uiepuveu to recognize mum, or pats with them the ordinary civilities of life.** ilia temperament was unfortunate, and be seemed to have inherited a good deal of bis father's gloomy, desponding nature. [continued next week.] The Burning of Chicago. [We are now able to give the public something like a succinct account of the origin, progress and termination of the most disastrous fire which has ever been known on this continent. From various sources of iutorinatiou we have received comparatively lull particulars of the destruction ol Chicago, and although the horrors of the two nights and two days daring wnich the devoted city was wrapped in flames can never be entirely known, yet enough is kuown to sotteu even the most obdurate heart, and All the most anfeeliug soul with pity and sorrow.] At about 10 o'clock Sunday evening the tire broke out in the western division of the city, at the ourner of?JL)ekoveu and Jetferson streets,a place than which no worse could have been touud for the house for blocks around were wooden tenements, as dry and crisp and ready to be burned as it they had been prepared for that purpose.? And tbey had been prepared.? For weeks an almost uuoxaunpled drought had plagued the West, more particularly /the neighborhood of the city. The piairies were bare and brown, the waterouursee dried up, the fields parched almost as it a simoon had wept oter them. In various sections of tne West and Northwest most dreadful ana unheard of Hi es had raged, in which thousauds upon thousands ot acres of forest Itlld had h??n ? OIJU (UV prairiee aw*)* aa with the besom ot destruction Chicago was like tinder, waiting only tor a spark to set it in flames, and when that perfc name, it came in that quarter of the city which, more than any other, was ready to be acted njion hy it. Then the scene in this qnarter was terrible, bat only the beginning ot horrors which were soon to come. The wind had set in from the southwest early in the evening, and just about the time when the conflagration began it freshened, and so?>n increased in violence till it became a furious gale. The city fire engines came t . ..:iU -11 ?? ? ? 1 <ivviiv niiu an pvmmuie um- | patch; the firemen were almost worn out with their exertions in snbdncing the fire previous evening, and even had they been fresh they could have l>ceti of little avail, tor the flames had got under headway and were not to be stopped. In a few minutes they had extended to adjoining houses, and spread like wildfire io a northeasterly direction, 'llie poor people w h o occupied the tenements sprang in affright froin their beds, and with cries of terror ran down I into the street. Beds and furniture of all descriptions were thrown from the windows, and lay in heterogoneous confusion on the sidewalk, obstructing the passage to and fro ot the fire companies, and thus preventing what little chance there had been of iinped- I ing the onward rush of the fire, ...j .? - _ .... ehnrch bell* bellowed in the drowsy ear of night, waking the citi aens Car down town who had slumbered through the early hours of the night, while in another section the fire had boon driving helpless women and children from their homes into hoaseleseuese and dee pair. And still the bells rang on m iu buuii me wnoie district, as tar down as Van Buren street, was one sheet of flume, roaring and hissing and licking about piles of luml)er and rows of dwellings, which crackled and tell crashing to the ground. The sky was lighted up tor miles Ground, and the river looked like a stream of blood. Hardly had the families which oc cupied the district time to escape with their lives, and as to saving their household furniture, which to most ot them was their all, it was a thing not to be thought of. Women, halt-clad, ran (-creaming through the streets, a baby in one arm, while little cl^ldren clung to thetn and whinqwed with terror. At every attempt to stay the flames the firemen were driven baffled and disheartened, yet they worked manfully and disput ed the ground inch by inch.? Over the furniture which strewed the 6trcets all went running in the wildest confusion, each person bent only on saving himself and his family and caring nothing tor his ueighbor. Matty in their wild endeavors to escape were knocked down and trampled upon, and some even killed. Many of these laborers?tor the quarter was mainly inhabited by people of that class?were cartraen and draytneu and naturally they strove to their utmost to save their hor806. But in cases of fire, horses seem to lose all the instinct which, under ordinary circumstances, would save them from danger, and stand stock still in their stables, their Hanks and sides shaking in the agony of terror, and nttorly refuse to be taken or driven from their stables, which, f oor beasts, they have always considered their place ot safety where no harm can reach them. On this awtul night, above even the roar of the flames and the crash of falling timbers, could be heard the shrieks of the horses ringing ont on the nightair. They would not be driven away, but, stupefied with fear, fell down in ther stables and were roasted alive, and the sickening ster.oh of burning flesh was added to the indescriliable and nauseating odor which always accompanies burning buildings when water has been showered upon them.-* Seeing that it wonld be impossible to save the city with the force at* his command, Marshal Williams telegraphed to neighboring places, asking for immediate aid, which was given with all possible dispatch. But it came slowly?at auch times every minute is an age ?and before engines could arrive from Milwaukee triple work was to be done, and, L> add to the hor rora of tlia time, it was feared that the water wonld give out.? In throo hours over twenty blocks ot houses had been bnrned to the ground and lay smouldering in ruins. The fire had spread more than a mile from the place at which it bad started, and was making directly for the heart o t the city. It had made a clean swat bo from Dekoven street to Van Buren, and from the river to Jeflerson street, a mile in length and nearly a inilo in breadth. The tire-belle clanged and clamored, and from the steeples the as if a legion of devils had taken r possession of the belfries. Tbe t whole city awoke in terror and c rushed into tbe streets, only to ? find them filled with people rnn- t ning to and fro, with women bitting e on cutbs and stoops crying with r grief, and sobbing over their cliil ti drcn who lay in their arms asleep, v and all unconscious of tbe dread s disr s'er which had befallen them or t 1 .1 1 !. ? ukikvj up wiiii wondering ej*os ftt | ' their mothers' facet. What was M ; it all about t What made the sky c so red ? W hy were tbe streets so > full of people 9 They could n't 1 make it out ^t all, and then they 1 went to sleep again, while their I mothers wept and prayed and ' wondered what had become of the 1 child's lather. I At some places the fire did not > go in a direct line, but left some * houses?as fires will do?almost 1 unharmed in the midst of the ' flumes. A gentleufeoi who was iti ' a house in Market street, just be 1 yond the river, describes the scene 1 as he saw it troui his housetop.? y Up towards the burning district < and far beyond the sky seemed to ' be on tire ; the clouds driven past { by the gale seemed masses of an- ' grv flames rushing towards him, and bearing destruction to the ' whole city. Below the fire roared and ran along from house to house 1 like a snake grasping all things in ' its hungry jaws. The air was tilled 1 with sparks and fire-brands, which 1 whirled and danced, were driven 1 before the wind, or shot up sudden ly towards the heavens like i*ock- 1 ets. The noise was almost deafeninrr t lio cumIa -?J ? ? ...v muovi uti ib uiiu engines as they drove madly through the streets, men and women emerging from the smoke, which rolled in heavy volumes down the way, and ' bearing with them whatever they could lay their hands on ; their heads and faces as they gleamed in 1 the lurid light, he describes as a 1 scene never to be forgotten. It was a grand, but an awful picture. In its passage the lire had bnrned down many lumber yards, and the freight depots of the Chicago and St. Lonis, the Pittsburg and?Fort Wayne, and the Chicago Hail roads. As it approached the river it became evident that it would cross it, and soon that fear was realized ; for the wind carried brands across the narrow stream to the northeast side, and there, falling on the wooden buildings adjoining the gas works, set it on tire, and then the flames, having secured a foot hold, rushed on to their work of further destruction. The gas house was destroyed, and the city was lighted only by the fires which we e consuin ng itself. Then came a panic such as a city has rarely seen. Vagne rumors of pillage filled the air, and deeds of violence and horror were more than dreaded. The people rushed pell-mell from their houses rather than remain with them in darkness?the most hated and detested thing in f!niao * 1 v* uiouaici nnti cainscropne. They ran in crowds about the streets, meeting crowds rushing from opposite directions, and, in their fright, trying to push their way through the dense mosses which encountered them, were trampled down and many of them crushed to death in the desperation of tho momfcnt. An awful spectacle was presented when the fire, having swept down the river, reached Lake street. An eyewitness of the scene says that the body of the flatno presented a front of half a semi-circle, and behind it was a raging, roaring hell of fire half a mile deep. Nothing material could withstand the surge of this tretnendrous sea of flame. On its advance northward it had driven the inhabitants into Lake and South Water streets and on to the bridges, much as a prairie fire stampedes affrighted animals. The streets were filled with a distract ed people, panic stricken and hud died in a mob almost as terriblo to behold as the roaring ccnfla^ra tion. Until now some instinct seemed to have pointed out this section as beyond the teach ot the fire. But when it was seen that tlia n/iaun ftf - ??'-4'L ? I...v wwii vi uuiiio nan nimeiiiuiy whelming overything, till dependence on human means of succor was lost. Looking down on this awful assemblage, lit as it was by the flaming crimson light, and bearing the horrid human tumult above the crackling of the oncoming fire, it seemed like the appalling realization of one of those old visions of the day of judgment.? An overwhelming sense of a catastrophe beyond the power of man to arrest, robbed this surging riot of wretches of the usual petty i considerations, of life. Those who < were strongest and most cowardly, knocked the others down in < their delirum ; men, women and children were trampled npon by human herds that fled without K eason hither and tliithor, uttering he most pitiful groan# and cries ?f distress. When the fire seized ipou Lake street, overlapping the nagnitlcent stores and warehons which extend from Lake to tbe irer, and igniting them and all heir costly contents as if they rere so much tinder, a horrible ight was presented, for now ? miv?* vniuv UCOI/I ipilUIl in their utter and di.-slisting bestiality. Men drank till they fell down in their track?, and then others took their places, only to fall and lie helplessly on the bodies of the others who wallowed in tbe gutters like hogs. In some instances the barrels were overturned and the liquor ran down the gutters and took fire, which leaped along the street and burned with a ghastly blue flame. SSev-' eral persons were burned to death in thia way, but many wero dragged away by their le36 drunken comrades, although there was little of friendly fellowship left in them. The citizens seotn to have formed a sort of vigilance ? -- com hi n iuu, miu rims prevented much of horror, pillage and bloodshed. But the tire?what was to stop il? The wind altered its direction and then almost died out. Then came a drenching rain, and at laat the fire socmen to have burned itself out. Aid, too, had come in abundance, aqd at lost the most tei rific conflagration this continent had ever kno^mp/SfiM subdued. housauds wci e hemmed in between he fire and river. The stampede ras sickening beyond the power >f words to tell. Men and horses vere jammed on the bridges.? Women and children clinging alike to each other and the most precious of their household effects; tome of them with their clothes learlv torn from their bodiee ran olindly about sci earning and moaning:. All distinction of class md nationality was lost. This narrator crossed the Wells streot bridge and reached the track of lite Galena Road. lie does not reincml>er how lie crossed it. It leemed to him afterwards that he was lifted nj>nn the human waves u>d thrown blinded and confused nto tlie opposite street. Here the nnuke was pouring in dense billows over the walls and throngh Wells, Lueulle, Clark and Dearbon streets. As he tnrned to look hack a fiery cincture stretched all round to the south and west, and through the smoky cross streets burned the red glare of tlio onrushing fiend with distended jaws and lurid lips. At last the morning dawned? and upon what a sceue 1 The pun rose lurid a9 seen throngh the smoke which hung above tire city like a curse, lhat which at night had been awful in its grandeur, looked desolate and wan in the early light. The bnrnt districts looked like hell with the fires burnt out. All along the path of the storm was marked with black and smouldering ruins. As one passed down South Water 6trect and up Market to the river, carefully picking his way through the yet smoking cm here, from beneath which flames would occasionally start up a* a motion of the foot admitted air to the wood below, a most horrible and sickening sight? blasted the eyes. Men, driven by that hliud instinct which makce tliero, though hopeless, return to the scene of tlu*t rlioootoi ? ? ? - ?..??? v* IU?%U IVI T% II IVyil lias ruined them, Bought the spots where onco their homes had 6tood, and, sitting down on some pieces of fallen timber, actually wept and wrung their l ands in anguish. One ot these wretched beings sought his home, and in stepping on a half charred beam caused it to spring up, and from beneath it came a sickly odor. He madly turned and pried away the timber, and saw beneath it the dead body of his 6on. a young man of about twetity years of age, who, probably returning to the house to savo something he prized, had fallen in the llames and been burned to death?roasted alive. Throughout the day the conflagration raged, and all hopes ot extinguishing it seemed to be lost, for tiie wind yet continued to blow wi;h terrific force; and when night again came a new horror was added. Bands of drunken and iufuiiated men roamed the streets, chanting ribald songs and bent on pillage. It seems singular, yet all experience 6hows it to be true, that in times ot great disaster men are not chastened, but the worst part of their nature is roused to action. They become moral maniacs. Tbeee men and half-grown bnja broke into several 6tores and houses, probably in search rather of whisky than of plunder. In some instances barrels of intoxicating liquor were rolled into the streets, the heads knocked in, and then took place RCAtioa u'liif li Kofflfl .1 : .? 2 ?