CHAPTER XXII.

Galveston Storm Stories—Fierce Battles With Surging Waves—Vivid Accounts from Fortunate Survivors—A City of Sorrow.

A resident of the stricken city gave the following graphic narrative of his experiences, which help to make up the dark picture of Galveston’s agony and desolation:

“Some people asked, ‘How did you feel when your house went down in the storm?’ It is a question easier asked than answered. I was among the few who lost their houses early in the storm and before darkness set in. Up to fifteen minutes or less before the house went down I had hopes that it might survive the storm. For three hours before it went I watched the waters patiently, mostly from the south windows, but of course had the restlessness natural to people who are waiting for a great crisis in the lives of themselves or those dear to them. To sit perfectly still under the circumstances was impossible.

“A few moment’s rest by a south window was followed by an uncontrollable desire to go to some other part of the house to see how matters were looking. Wandering from one point to another, the round of the house was made, and once more I found myself back of the south windows to watch the waters from the main danger point. I do not think that I or any of my family could have been called excited. There was a restless, uneasy feeling among us all, but actually no fear. When my wife left the house she fully expected to return to it when the storm was over. My boys were with her and my little girl, and for probably half an hour I was alone.

“During that time I was partly engaged in keeping the north and east doors closed. The wind blew them open several times, but did not break the hinges. When one was blown open torrents of rain poured in, and I remember thinking of the task the women would have in drying the floors and disposing of articles that had suffered from the water. From this it can be judged that even at that time I was not looking for a total wreck. How did I feel? I was not excited. I was not in fear of my life. It seemed to me that what I regretted was the property loss and the struggle I would have to repair damages.

“But a total loss—a sweeping away of everything I had in the world—was not thought of. In fact, it is hard to realize now, a week after the storm. The mind cannot rest all the time on one’s loss, and at times it seems when I want something at my house all I have to do is to go out and get it. My good wife last night caught herself the same way. Speaking of the need of a shirt for Sunday, she asked: ‘What do you want to buy a shirt for, when you have three or four—oh, I forgot; they were lost in the storm.’ We have been housed safely, and it has seemed more like a visit than a total loss of property to her, except when she has felt the need of something that was carried away in the storm.

THE OLD FAMILY BIBLE.

“As time passes and we begin to realize that all is gone, there is a desire to find something, even if it is of no value, when the wreckage is cleared away. My wife expressed the wish that the family Bible might be found, be it ever so dirty and torn. It contained records that could be nowhere else secured, and if a new one is purchased and the records again written, it must be entirely from memory.

“But though we lost all, we were among those families where no life was sacrificed in the storm, and in that respect were more fortunate than some of our neighbors and many of our friends. The number of broken families in Galveston seems innumerable. As one walks the streets he meets friends of whom he had never thought, and the first greeting is ‘Did you save all your family?’ An affirmative answer brings out the remark, ‘You are lucky; many have lost not only all their worldly goods but their families.’”

“In many instances the reply is that your friend has saved his family but has lost his other relatives. It seems that there is scarcely an individual in the city who has not lost some relative. Where the loss is not positive it is believed to have occurred, because no news of the supposed dead ones has been received.

“Tales of rescues and narrow escapes continue to come to light, but to record them all would require the work of hours in writing up and fill the paper full to the brim with this class of matter alone.

“The stores and groceries are again getting down to business, but they are badly handicapped by damaged stock, more especially the dry goods and clothing stores. A complete overhauling of these establishments has been necessary and the separation and sorting out and drying of damaged goods is not yet complete. Those which have fully opened for business are crowded with customers, and in some instances it is still necessary to keep the crowds out, letting in only a few customers at a time.

HARD WORKED CLERKS.

“The clerks are a hard worked set of people just at the present time. With the changes in overhauling the stock they have not yet become acquainted with the exact location of articles called for, and it requires a search to find them. This naturally retards the quick execution of business, and throws additional labor on those waiting on the customers. But order is rapidly being evoked out of the chaos existing after the storm, and in the course of time things will be moving along with their old-time uniformity.

“The street forces have got fairly to work on the business streets, and they are rapidly assuming a more passable condition. Drays are hauling away the trash, and in the course of a week or so the worst evidence of the storm will be removed. The damaged buildings will take longer to repair, but the streets will present more of the old-time aspect than for the past week.

“Work on the pile of wreckage back from the beach is progressing, and now and then one hears of bodies taken from the ruins, clearly showing that the full extent of the loss of life has not yet been realized.

“In this storm the usual conditions have been reversed. Whereas, in wrecks by wind, water or rail, first reports greatly magnify the loss of life, while in the present case it seems that the estimate of lives lost is increasing rather than diminishing as each day passes. While the total will never be known, it will be far above the early estimates.

“The relief system is fairly in operation, and it is now claimed that no one need go hungry except able-bodied men who refuse to labor. But it should be understood that those desiring relief should go to the different ward headquarters, or send some one. The committees and heads of departments have no facilities for forwarding goods to the destitute in the various portions of the city. Their time is taken up with procuring and distributing supplies from the various headquarters.

REASONS FOR BURNING RUINS.

“Suggestions have been made to burn the pile of lumber of all kinds in the rafts, but this seems both impracticable and unadvisable, If it can be preserved, every stick and board will be of use hereafter. The only reasons for burning the rafts given are that it will cremate the bodies of the dead known to be in some and supposed to be in almost all of them. Sickness resulting from the decaying bodies is predicted if this is not done. But if it is attempted more loss of life is likely to occur from it than will result from sickness arising from putrid bodies.

“Once let the fire demon get hold of the immense masses of lumber and the remaining portion of the city may be wiped out. No one who has seen a conflagration in a city can doubt that all the fire apparatus in Texas would be ineffectual to stop the march of the flames to the bay in case of a strong south wind. Many houses, partially wrecked, are in the piles, and many household goods belonging to people who have lost all may be recovered. Disinfect the rafts as far as possible, and remove the lumber. Preserve it as far as can be done conveniently. It will be needed for building temporary homes for the destitute.

“We have thousands of homeless people in the city, and while free transportation is offered to those who wish to go, there are many who have no friends to go to. These people must be cared for. Some are now crowded in the homes of friends, and others are located in the large buildings in the business district. All are only temporarily provided for. Something must be done to house them, at least temporarily, when cold weather approaches. It would be well to issue permits for temporary buildings to be erected from the debris of wrecked homes, without regard to the fire rules of the city as they now stand, but with the distinct proviso that they should be removed after a certain date. I am no advocate of ramshackle shanties as permanent buildings in the city, in any part of it, but I appreciate the fact that we are facing an emergency that requires prompt action to prevent severe suffering in the near future.

A CHARITABLE PEOPLE.

“Galveston’s people have not in the past turned their faces against the suffering poor, and I do not think they will do so in the future. While strong, substantial buildings should be required in permanent structures, there is no reason why the wreckage should not be used in erecting temporary shelter for the homeless. Lumber promises to be a scarce article when once the resumption of building is begun, and every board, rafter and scantling on the pile of wreckage should be saved.

“There is valuable wreckage strewn through the rafts. There are desks and trunks that may contain papers of value to the owners but valueless to others. These should be placed aside and saved for identification by their owners. Articles of personal apparel may some time be of use in settling the estates of the dead. Wills may be found stowed away in frail desks that by some chance may have escaped total wreckage in the storm. Jewelry and personal ornaments are not unlikely to be found in places where least expected. People fleeing from wrecked houses do not stop to search in trunks for jewel boxes. Many of them doubtless remain in the mass of chaos-like wreckage and may be recovered as the piles are cleared away.

“In a walk over the flats on Friday I turned off the water—or rather turned the faucets so as to prevent the water running out—wherever I saw a water pipe, and I would suggest that others seeing water pipes should do the same thing. The waterworks employes are doubtless looking after these pipes as far as practical, but where so large a district is covered as in the late storm it is almost impossible to find all of them. Water is the prime necessity at this time, and every pipe turned off saves that much water when the works once start up.”

Mr. David H. Hall, city electrician, completed a thorough canvass of the condition of affairs regarding the electric plant of the city. He said it was like awakening from a nightmare to get around and hustle to repair the appalling losses and destruction of property. Speaking after his canvass of the city and inspection of the city’s electric light plant, Mr. Hall said:

PREPARING TO LIGHT THE CITY.

“While the damage to the municipal electric light plant is very extensive, there is a great deal of salvage and nothing to interfere with an early resumption of operations. Temporary sheds will be erected at once over the engines and dynamos and they will be soon put in condition for service. The principal mains, on Market street and Ball avenue, I find to be intact. The engines can be operated as soon as the steam pipes and the breaching to the boilers can be repaired. We will have the business district between avenue A and Church street, Twentieth street and Rosenberg avenue, lighted within a week or ten days. This is about the earliest date that we deem it safe to turn on the current owing to the amount of debris in the streets, the large number of men engaged in saving property and the menace to life and property that an electric current might prove to be.

“One circuit in the business district will be completed in two days. The entire lighting service in that territory embracing Tenth street to Thirty-seventh street, avenues A to avenues K and L, can be restored and in operation within sixty days. The lighting service for the public buildings will be reinstalled as soon as the buildings are put in condition to receive the wiring. I have received such generous and noble offers of assistance from strong financial quarters in the north that we will be able to secure all the material necessary to restore the plant and system at our own terms and have as long as the city wants to pay for same. The most regrettable and deplorable feature to me is the loss of fifteen of my employes and their families.

“I am not inclined to give up or lose courage or heart, and I feel like the old king at the siege of Megara, who is reported to have said when taken prisoner: ‘My palace has fallen about my head, my city is in flames, my state ravaged by my enemies, my wife and children I know not where; no cloak to shield me from cold, but I have lost nothing. I have my intellect, my faith, my courage and my loyalty. These can not be taken from me, and, having them, I have lost nothing.’

OVERCOMING DISASTERS.

“Despite our tremendous losses, we can save much and make good much if we have not lost our heart and courage. Galveston will be restored; if not by us, by sturdier men who are equal to the task. I was living in Chicago at the time of the great fire in 1871. Many men, and some of them of apparent good judgment, declared that Chicago would never be restored; would never rise from the ashes. Within one year there was a better Chicago than ever before. Four years ago I went through the track of the St. Louis cyclone, and the same was said of that city. Now there is nothing to be seen there but scars of that awful storm.

“The same will be with Galveston. In three or four years, or less, Galveston will be as great, if indeed not greater, than she was before the storm, if the people are true to themselves. It is surprising what can be done where willing and cheerful hearts go to work and work in the right way. Galveston citizens are not only hopeful but determined that the city shall be resurrected, as it were, and when that spirit animates us enough is said.”

“Did you ever feel the thrilling experience of being on a ship as she was just in the act of sinking?” said a sunburnt sailor to a citizen. He was one of the survivors of the ill-fated dredge boat which sank near Texas City.

“The night of the terrible hurricane at Galveston,” he continued, “it was predicted by several of us on board the dredge boat that a destructive storm was approaching, and it was deemed best to put out all anchors. We had no more than done so when the wind veered to the southeast. We had not put out all of the anchors any too soon, for of all the high winds and waves, those that lashed our boat were the worst I have ever seen.

“I have been in many a shipwreck, and realized that it was only a short time before I would be in another world, for I felt the boat dragging her anchors and drifting inland at a terrific speed. We were then some eight or ten miles from shore.

BOAT PASSING OVER TREE TOPS.

“It seemed to me only fifteen or twenty minutes before the fury of the storm struck us. I saw our boat passing over tree tops. I knew we were then approaching the bay shore, and possessing that knowledge as to when to leave a sinking ship, I procured some fifteen life preservers and gave one each to the crew, and told each man how to put them on and to follow me to the upper deck, and be ready to dive off when I gave the word.

“They were all frightened nearly to death, and only two succeeded in getting their life preservers on and reaching the top deck with me. When the fearful moment came for man to battle with the winds and water, I gave command to jump. In an instant three of us made a plunge into an immense breaker, which carried us high into the air.

“I looked back and could see nothing of the boat that I had just abandoned. I have been informed that she went ashore about a mile and a half west of Texas City. If the other ten poor souls were saved, I have not heard of them.

“Do you know there is something thrilling and exciting about being shipwrecked when you are near the shores. I presume a man feels the same that a parachute man does when he gets near the ground in his downward flight. If his parachute works all right he is safe. With a sailor he must first adjust his life preserver and try to avoid the rocks and trees.”

Mr. E. W. Dorris, of Houston, was one of the relief party that helped to bury the dead as they washed ashore from Galveston. At daybreak he was unable to secure a boat of any kind to cross, but he and two others constructed a raft of some loose planks and started across the bay, reaching the draw of the Galveston, Houston and Henderson bridge. They were unable to go any further or cross the channel, the party being entirely exhausted, and after signaling distress for more than an hour, the tramp ship grounded at the wagon road bridge, in the middle of the bay, finally sent a lifeboat to the rescue of the party, taking them ashore to the Galveston side. Mr. Dorris states that the party saw no less than 600 dead bodies between the bridge and the Santa Fe depot.

GLARED AT THE THRONG.

He stood on the corner of Main and Congress streets in a half dazed condition. He glared at the great throng that was passing, some on business bent while others were seeking the latest news and hunting their relatives. He did not observe that he was being watched, nor would he have cared, for the expression upon his face showed him to be a man of great determination to be brave under the greatest misfortune of his life. You could trace in his every action a man in great sorrow.

But he had to show his emotion and give vent to his feelings, which so long he tried to smother; mechanically he raised his hand and covered his face in order to hide his grief. As he took his hands down he wiped both eyes, which had been flowing with tears. At this juncture he was approached by a citizen who, in kind tones, asked him of his solicitations and grief.

He said: “I am trying to be strong both in mind and body, but I cannot suppress my feelings in this public thoroughfare. Yes sir, I am suffering, mourning for the dead; my wife and sweet baby are among those who have gone to the great beyond.”

“How did it occur and bow did you escape?”

“Six weeks ago I kissed her (my wife) and my darling baby good-bye and took the first train for an interior town, where I had secured employment. By correspondence it was arranged between us that she was to come to me on Monday. The storm occurred Saturday night and she and the baby were drowned.

“Were the corpses found?” was asked.

“Yes. She had the baby clasped in her arms. She was found within fifty feet of where our once happy home stood. She was given as decent a burial as circumstances would permit. I am sorry, but I cannot talk any further upon this subject, as my grief knows no bounds.”

THE USUAL QUESTIONS.

After uttering the last sentence be pulled his hat down over his eyes and he passed into the crowded throng that was headed down the street. He looked around and said:

“There are hundreds of cases that are similar to mine, the result of this great hurricane.”

“Was your father, mother, brother, sister, son or daughter or other relatives saved from the Galveston horror?” are questions that are frequently heard asked as friends meet and greet each other in Houston.

“Yes,” said a gentleman speaking to another, who asked him if his son was safe. “I have just returned from Galveston with him. You would hardly recognize him, though, bruised, battered and bleeding, with a bandage around his head and his arm in a sling. These wounds were not caused by trying to save himself, but others. He was boarding with some lifelong friends of our family who had been extremely kind to him. When the storm was at its height and danger appeared on every hand and it was deemed advisable to abandon their home to its fate, Charlie was the sole protector of two lone women. He took the elder one first and carried her to a place of safety, after being washed about by the water and debris of trees and buildings for an hour or more

“When the storm was raging in its greatest fury he returned to the home of his friend for the young lady. Reaching her he was surprised to find the water nearly five feet deep all around the place, and the house careened over, nearly ready to fall. With his arm tightly clasped into hers they started for the high ground. The Gulf was now raging in all its madness; billows were piling many feet into the air, and each billow seemed to vie with the other as to which could raise its head the higher, and do the greatest destruction.

“Sometimes Charlie and his precious, helpless burden would be entirely submerged for some time. At other times they would be lifted off their feet and carried a distance of fifteen or twenty feet. After regaining their equilibrium they would again forge forward to meet the elements, of danger of life and limb. Each wave had cunningly hidden beneath its sprays missiles of death, such as pieces of planks, house tops, buggies, wagons, pianos and other articles too numerous to mention. It kept these two wearied and exhausted creatures nearly all the time dodging and escaping those death missiles.

PIANO TOSSING IN THE WATER.

“When they had nearly reached a place of safety they noticed a larger wave than usual coming. Charlie saw upon its crest an upright piano being tossed about as though it were a feather. Would it miss them? was the question that flashed into both of their minds.

“Onward it came, with its ivory keys, showing it was once a messenger of joy and happiness, but it was now a messenger of death, for with one mighty bound it went straight up into the air upon the foaming and frothy water and plunged straight down at Charlie and his fair companion. He saw that he had to make one more death struggle in an instant. He threw himself in front of his lone midnight charge and placed her arms around his body and told her to hold on to him with all her strength.

“The supreme moment was over—the piano had been thwarted in its effort to crush them, but in the struggle Charlie found that he had been torn loose from his lady friend, who had been swallowed up by the raging wave. He at once began a search by feeling and diving for her. Not a flash of lightning, nor the glimmer of an arc light was visible, for, like the life of this dear creature who was engulfed by the torrent waters, they had gone out.

“At this juncture a remarkable thing happened. He had decided to dive once more. He did so, and grasped the hand of what he thought to be his missing friend. He was overjoyed, but upon bringing her to the surface he found that it was not her, but another.

“The waters had increased so in depth by this time that it was impossible for him to attempt to wade, and about this time a house top came along and he crawled upon it. While drifting about on it, he picked up four boys from 6 to 12 years of age. His frail craft finally drifted to a place of safety, where he and his young companions were rescued.”

ATTRACTED NO ATTENTION.

So many are the stories, so harrowing the details, and so miraculous the escapes that for the present the experiences of different persons on the night of the storm in Houston attracted no attention; in fact, if a person wished to tell of his experience in Houston that night he could scarcely find an interested listener.

Nevertheless, Mr. Fred. Chadly, who lives near the Arkansas Pass depot, came as near losing his life that fatal night as did any who passed through its fury in the city of Galveston and escaped. Mr. Chadly left the Capitol Hotel for home about 10 o’clock, not realizing the intensity of the storm.

After an hour’s fighting the strong wind and rain and dodging falling trees and flying debris of all kinds, he arrived at his house only to find the front door impregnably barricaded by a large fallen tree. Nothing daunted, however, Mr. Chadly immediately proceeded to make his way around to the back of the house and gain an entrance there.

He was walking in a crouching position with his head bent down so that the wind would not strike him squarely in the face, and was not looking ahead, therefore the large cypress cistern, as it tottered on its foundation preparatory to being blown down, escaped his notice until he was too late to dodge it. The cistern was blown over, turning twice in rapid succession, falling top downward directly over Mr. Chadly.

The cistern was about one-third full of water, but as Mr. Chadly was already thoroughly wet, the water made very little difference, as it soon ran out. Mr. Chadly called loudly for help, but owing to the pandemonium caused by the hurricane, no one heard him. The next morning the carpenter came to fix the cistern, and after raising it discovered Mr. Chadly, who was nearly smothered to death.

HOUSE ROLLED MANY YARDS.

One of the experiences of the storm was that of Miss Reine Stanton of Houston, who, with her father and a younger sister, were camping on her farm two and a half miles from Letitia. The house rolled for a distance of 200 yards and then collapsed. The girls were rescued several hours later in an unconscious condition, but, though quite seriously injured, they may recover. All the buildings on the place were wrecked.

“You have often heard that men are fond of the ‘jug,’” said one of the refugees. “Well, I am fond of two jugs, for they are the cause of my being here to-day. I owned a little shanty on the west end of Galveston Island, and, like many others who lived there, I thought and argued that we were not in the storm center, and had seen the water come up near my shanty many times before and recede. This time it not only came up to my little home, but into it. After waiting patiently for it to go down, it kept climbing higher and higher into it. It dawned upon me all of a sudden that all means of escape had been cut off.

“I looked around for something that would bear my weight upon the water. I saw in the corner of my house two two-gallon jugs. I took them and securely fastened a stopper in each and got a piece of rope and then fastened them to my body by passing the rope around under my arms, and securely tying them to each other. I then went out on the gallery and when the crash came I dove off into the maddening waters. I suppose that I was carried about twenty miles down the island and thence back, God knows how far, and inland about eight miles. When I became conscious it was nearly daylight Monday morning. I walked here, where I have some friends, and have been recuperating.

“Yes, I believe in jugs, at least for life saving purposes only.”

An amusing incident occurred at the International and Great Northern depot. One of the ladies’ relief corps from the North was highly indignant and pitched into Superintendent Trice because sleepers were not attached to the train going down to Texas City.

WANTED PALACE CARS.

“We’ve rode in those Pullmans all the way from New York, and it’s a shame and outrage that you intend making us ride in a day coach now. We want those sleepers to live in.” She was wrathy, but when the colonel informed her that before the party got out at Galveston they’d have to walk on dead bodies, wade through slush and slime and have a tough time generally she’d think a day coach was a palace, she said no more. It is evident that some of the “relief corps” consider the trip a pleasure jaunt. When they have been in Galveston a few days they will probably change their minds.

“First reports of storm damage are always rather exaggerated,” remarked a gentleman of the Arcola plantation. “At first everything looks as though it were completely wrecked, but after the calm comes and the work of straightening up begins it is astonishing to see how little property really is damaged. We had considerable damage on our place. The cabins blew down and the convict house was unroofed. When this occurred we turned all the convicts out on the prairie and the next morning all of them voluntarily reported for duty except six, and they worked like trojans assisting in the work of cleaning up. The cane crop suffered considerably, but is by no means a loss. It is recuperating nicely. Very little corn was lost, because most of it was gathered.”

Mr. Fred. Erickson, who returned from Galveston, says he saw a lady, who was drowned among the many others on a burial barge, who had on a fine watch, diamond earrings, several diamond finger rings; besides, he noticed that she wore gold clasp garters with her name upon them.

He asked the party in charge why these valuables were not removed and the garters removed as a means of identification, and he was told that they were not allowed to remove anything from the bodies, no matter how valuable and how it might aid in future identification.

JEWELS ON THE DEAD.

He noticed a woman floating in the water, and he and a policeman turned her over, and attached to her bosom was a very fine gold watch with her name upon it. He called the policeman’s attention to the importance of securing the watch for future identification, and was given the same information.

Mrs. John P. Smart returned from Galveston on board the steamer “Lawrence,” along with about 400 women and children. Mrs. Smart had been in Galveston for some three weeks, and came away on the first trip made by the “Lawrence.” She said of her experience during the storm:

“At 3 o’clock Saturday afternoon, in spite of the efforts of the lady of the house to persuade us all to remain at home, we set out for a place of safety, the Atlanta Hotel. The water was then three feet deep on avenue P. On the way to the hotel I saw three women drowned. They were making their way down the street and were blown down by the wind and lost. We left the house none too soon. After the storm not a trace of it could be found.

“The wind was then blowing at the rate of about sixty miles an hour. At 11 o’clock, when the wind was at its height, the water around the Atlanta Hotel was nine feet deep and the building shook terribly. As the windows were blown in, the men stopped them up again with doors. But when the worst was over and the house still stood, we found that not one of all those who had crowded there for refuge was lost.

“The sight on Sunday morning defies description. One could not look in any direction without seeing scores of human bodies. One building in the west end, in which between 400 and 500 had taken shelter, went down and every human being in it was lost. Not a house was left along the beach. On the bay shore I saw three men on horseback dead. Horses and riders, with reins gripped as if to ride through the peril at any cost, had passed over the river.

MAJORITY KILLED OUTRIGHT.

“There were a number injured, but the overwhelming majority were killed outright. The injured were taken care of at the Sealy and St. Mary’s hospitals, both of which were injured, but not totally destroyed. There are doctors enough in Galveston, but medical supplies are needed.

“One pitiful incident came under my observation. Mrs. Baldwin clung to a raft for twelve hours, from six o’clock Saturday night until six Sunday morning, holding a child, a baby two years old, in her arms. The baby begged her to save its dog, a beautiful St. Bernard, too. Of course this was impossible. The baby was killed in its mother’s arms by flying debris and the dog was saved.

“The horror of that Sunday morning I shall never forget; white, ghastly corpses turning up their faces to the light, or clinging to a child or loved one, their twisted, agonized faces, showing the anguish of that last unequal struggle against death, were everywhere. One woman I saw holding fast to two bags of silver, as if to say: ‘Better die than be a beggar.’ Nearly all the west end people were lost. Those who sought safety in large houses had but the grim consolation of dying in company, for the whole of that portion of the city was destroyed. The work of rescue began as soon as the storm abated. But the crowd of survivors on the street Sunday morning was pitiably small. They seemed to me scarce 10,000. Clad in next to nothing, bathing suits and the like, the sun brought them only the sight of dead relatives and friends—some starvation.

“There was no food and no water. For two days I tasted no water and food was scarce indeed. The city, as soon as soldiers could be gotten, was put under the strictest martial law, under protest of Mayor Jones and Chief of Police Ketchum. These officials desired to enforce the law by civil authority. Fully seventy-five men have been killed for looting the dead and refusing to halt when ordered. Every house has to be guarded lest thieves break in them and steal.

OCEAN GIVING UP ITS DEAD.

“The ‘Lawrence’ which at first was under the control of the relief committee and charged nothing for passage, now exacts $2 per capita to Texas City. Besides this, there are three boats in the service. The only way to get away from Galveston is to go by boat to Texas City, where there are about 1000 women and children and almost no accommodations.

“The bodies have been all cleared away from the central portion of the town and there is a continual stream of corpse laden floats, drays, etc., to the barges. The west end has been set on fire, as the mass of wreckage there makes recovery impossible. But the beach is lined with bodies yet. Every day they wash up upon the sand. Old ocean is giving up its dead.

“The women and children will probably be compelled to leave. They are badly in need of clothes and avow that they want no rags but nice new clothes, ‘to avoid epidemic.’ I attribute the terrible loss of life,” concluded Mrs. Smart, “to the fact that the people trusted Galveston too much, and clung too long to a failing hope. This has often appeared to be a strange trait of human nature.”

A correspondent furnishes the following account of a well-known family:

“One of the saddest cases which has come to light is that of the Jalonick brothers of Dallas. No man is better known than Isaac Jalonick, of Dallas, who was so long the secretary of the Texas rating bureau, and he and his brothers have hosts of friends all over the State. There were three of them, George, Ed and Isaac. The family of Ed Jalonick, consisting of his wife, son and daughter, the children being young, came to Galveston several weeks ago to spend the latter part of the summer on the Gulf coast. They had taken a house on the southern part of the island, west of the Denver resurvey.

ONE OF THE SADDEST CASES.

“It was far removed from the city, and was in a section which was so badly storm swept that not a house remains. Mr. Jalonick came last week to take his family home, but the bad weather interfered and the trip home was postponed. Saturday the storm came, and when the two brothers, George and Ike, in Dallas, heard of the disaster they came here at once, to ascertain the condition of their brother and his family. They went to the former home and but a vacant spot met their anxious search for the house which had sheltered their loved ones. They decided to make a search among the dead on the island, in the hope that they could find the bodies and give them decent burial.

“For three days they were on the hunt. Mounted and accompanied by a team, with burial boxes, they moved across the island in every direction, examining every body they found. During their journey they viewed not less than 150 corpses. Now and again they thought they had found him or her whom they sought. Here it would be a piece of clothing, there a feature, and again the form, but each time only disappointment repaid them for the task of love, devotion and duty they had undertaken. It was an anxious search with hope deferred.

“They had no idea that they would be successful, but so anxious were they to have their relatives given decent burial, so strong was the desire to prevent them being in an unmarked grave, or consigned to the deep, or perhaps cremated with hundreds of others, that they decided to continue until every chance of a success was lost. Thursday at noon they were successful. They had searched for six miles west, and two to two and a half miles across, when suddenly Isaac recognized a shirt worn by a body which he found.

IDENTIFIED BY LAUNDRY MARK.

“It was a blue garment, one the brother had worn when with one of these brothers who was searching, and its color and cut brought to mind days when he and the lost one were together in happiness and in health. They investigated and turning back the collar they found the initials of their lost brother, as the garment had been marked by the laundry. This removed all doubt, and the body was put into a box and prepared for burial. It had badly decomposed, having laid for five days where the waves cast it, beneath the warm rays of a summer sun, and exposed to the elements of the night. With the helpers they succeeded in gathering it tenderly into the confines of a rough box.

“‘They dug out a grave a few feet deep, And there in earth’s arms they laid him to sleep.’

“They did not abandon the search because of finding one body, but continued it further on, and at 3 P. M. they found the boy. The little fellow was not far from his father, showing that the two had remained together as long as life remained in the parent. He was identified beyond all doubt. He was laid by the father. The two graves were marked, and it is the intention of the surviving brothers to have the bodies removed to the family lot in Dallas as soon as conditions justify. They will continue the search for the body of Mrs. Ed Jalonick and the little girl.”

It is at a time like the occasion of the Galveston storm when real heroes are made, when individuals become men of the hour, and when the true manhood of a man is made known to his fellows. The silent, modest, quiet man of every day life has never the credit that is his due, because he does not seek the notoriety which is necessary. There are men praised by the people of the United States because they were on a boat at Santiago or Manilla, or followed a commander up a hill at San Juan; by Great Britain because he was of Modder river, Ladysmith, or possibly Pretoria; and by other countries because of distinguished bravery in battle.

“They were men who had been schooled to danger, who had gone into the fight, with the one idea in mind, to kill and be killed for the honor of the flag they followed. They went into the conflict believing that it meant death or honors of war, and their heroism was of a character qualified by the conditions leading up to it. Not so with the men who passed through the flood of last Saturday and enrolled their names upon the tablet of fame. There are many instances, but they can not all be told. They were frequent during the terrible times of that day. One of these has already been told, that of the act of the boy of George Walker, of Austin, a little fellow not yet in his teens, who, by his heroic act, saved his aunt, who was all but drowned.”

GALLANT WORK OF FIRE DEPARTMENT.

But one has not been told. The people of the west end of the city speak in the highest praise of the boys of No. 6 fire station, which is located on Broadway, near Thirty-seventh street. When the water was very high, they secured their horses in the basement of the Broadway school building, tying high their heads so that they would be saved, and they were all brought out alive. The men then worked manfully for those about them; man after man, woman after woman, with many children were brought out of the water by these men of the fire-fighting force, and taken to the large school building opposite their station. They saved many people. There were 1200 people in this building at one time, and every one of them was saved.

Mrs. Frank Nichols, her daughter and little Miss Selkirk were down the island at their summer home, and Mrs. Nichols tells of the bravery of Captain White of the “Wasp.” The “Wasp” saved Captain Andrews and family of the life saving station. The sails blew away and the boat capsized with all on board, but the mast broke in the water and she righted herself. She drifted all night and landed in the bayou near the Nichols place Sunday morning with all safe.

The son of Mrs. Nichols got a horse in Galveston at 2 o’clock and managed to get to them, saving their lives. Their home was wrecked, but the young man built a rude shanty of the wreckage on the shore and they secured enough food in the ruins of their home to give the people on the “Wasp” a Sunday dinner. Mr. Nichols was in town. His home was completely wrecked and the clothes were torn from his back by the wind and wreckage. He is a little disfigured, but still able to be about.

MAN CARRIED THIRTY MILES.

Mr. A. A. Van Alstyne had a large quantity of provisions, such as rice, canned goods, etc., stored with him. He and his family escaped unhurt, and every since have been using their house as a basis of supplies for the needy in their immediate neighborhood.

Mr. Henry R. Decie, who lives eight and one-half miles down Galveston island, was in Houston, and reports that he was at his home when the storm began, but took his wife and children to the house of Mr. Willie Raine, a close neighbor. After reaching there he says the water, with one bound, raised four or five feet which took the house off the blocks.

“My wife and I were sitting on the foot of one of the beds at that time, which was 6 o’clock. We felt the house quiver, and my wife threw her arms around my neck and kissed me and said, ‘Good-bye, we are gone.’

“Just then the house crushed in and we struggled hard to get out. My baby boy was in my arms a corpse, having been killed by a falling timber. Another wave came and swept the overhanging house off my head. I looked around and discovered that my wife was gone and the remaining part of the house was drifting apart. Catching a piece of scantling I was carried thirty miles across the bay, landing near the mouth of Cow bayou.”