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 ?