The Sun.
London, England, 1864-03-16 00:00:00

THE CALAMITY AT SHEFFIELD.

The great mass of the flood waters seems DOW to
have passed off from the Don, and the streets in its
neighbourhood at Sheffield begin to wear somewhat
of their old appearance. Not so, however, with
the district over which the deluge poured. Many
months must elapse before the buildings are re-
stored, and years must go by before the face of the
country can wear the aspect of verdure and careful
cultivation which it bore on Friday night. The river,
though fallen, is far from being as low as it generally
is at this time of the year, and every furlong of the
stream's banks exhibit almost innumerable traces of
the inundation—such as trees, balks, and beams of
timber firmly embedded in its bed. The open land
in this neighbourhood is still for the greater por-
tion under water, and, as that drains off, a number
of bodies will, it is feared, be exposed to view. The
large hollows which abound are being filled up by
hundreds of cartloads of mud which are being de-
posited in them. The great manufacturers are busily
engaged cleaning out their warehouses, and polish-
ing their machinery, which had become rusty by
the water. Harvest-lane presents the same picture
of mud, cinders, dead horses, cows, and pigs, that it
did on Sunday. Bridgehouses was as busy as ever.
The Whiterails has been cleared. A great portion of
the thick deposit of mud has been carted away, giv-
ing the street somewhat of its usual appearance. In
Nursery-street, with its now silent manufactories,
is the Lady's-bridge. A great portion of the rub-
bish has been removed from beneath the arches,
and the water now flaws freely as far as the Blonk-
bridge, where the stream is still impeded by a mass
of rubbish. Blonk-street yet remains in the same
state as on Sunday. The works in this vicinity are
also stopped for repairs. As a rule, however, the
damage done to the great manufacturers in the town
has been slight. Mr. John Brown's works and
those of Mr. Bessemer escaped without injury, and
were at work as usual on the Monday following the
calamity. Messrs. Caramel's works were only de-
ranged, so to speak ; but the new works building
for Messrs. Naylor Vickers were rather serously
damaged. Round Neepsend and by Hillsborough
and Owlerton-road, where the great mischief fell,
the inhabitants of the houses are busily engaged
pumping the water out of the cellars. " Walters"
and masons are engaged in rebuilding, wherever
practicable, the walls that have been washed
down. Further down in tho gardens opposite,
at the other side of the river, a very painful
incident occurred. Two or three men were en-
gaged in removing the rubbish of cne of the small,
inhabited garden-houses. Near them stood a
young woman, with two children clinging to her
dress, the only ones saved from the wreck of their
cottage. The rubbish had almost been cleared
away when the leg of a human being was exposed
to view. Brick atter brick was removed, until the
poor woman recognised the remains of her husband.
A little above where this incident occurred the
corpse of a child was brought out of the mud in an
open space near the Old Brewery. About 20 yards
from this the body of a man was also found. As
these bodies were carried on stretchers to the work-
house a large crowd followed, but the greatest order
and decorum were observed by every one.

Writing to the Sheffield Daily Telegraph, a corre-
spondent who resided on Bacon-island, thus de-
scribes what he saw in a glimpse of the flood :
" I was seated at my fireside a little after 12 o'clock on
Saturday morning when my attention was arrested by a
strange noise, together with a shouting of many people.
Alarmed, I hastened to my front door; upon opening it I
was completely bewildered by the frightful sound that fell
upon my ears. It has never yet been truly described, nor
can it ever be ; the nearest approach to a correct definition
of it that I have heard was that of a poor man whose house
withstood the storm that swept away his furniture, &c.
Sir,' said he to me, ' I heard it coming just like hissing
thunder.' I was so stupified by this horrid sound that I
did not see the wild waters immediately before me, nor did
I dream of the nature of the calamity by which I was
threatened, until 1 actually stepped into the water at my
garden gate, lat once mounted the railings, and was ter-
rified by the sight of the rushing flood. Sharman's house
was immediately opposite, only across the road. My eye
had but just caught the waters foaming at its base, when
the end fell into the flood, affording a glimpse of the
rooms, furniture, Sic. It was but a glimpse, for in a moment
the remainder of the house fell towards the road, and sank
like lead in the waters, not leaving the slightest vestige
visible. As I was not aware that Sharman and his family
had escaped a few minutes before, I supposed they were all
lost, and a thrill of horror came over me that caused me to
turn my head from the deep that had, as I supposed, swal-
lowed them up. I then perceived that the waters had risen,
and surrounded me in my garden. I at once leapt back and
retreated into my house, which is considerably elevated
above the road. The stream rose rapidly, until it reached
4t't above the level which it had attained when it swept
away Sharman's house. As it had now reached my door-
step, I requested that my children should be taken out of
their beds and carried to a neighbouring house on higher
ground. Before this could be done I fancied the waters
ceased to rise; presently I bad the happiness to see that
they were subsiding, so that anxiety for my family and my-
self was at an end. When the 1t ood invaded it rose rapidly,
but when it retired it seemed to sink slowly, very slowly.
At length the road was clear of water (not of mud) ; we
then perceived that the bridge leading to the island was
swept away. Anxiety to know the fate of the cottagers on
the island constrained some to creep over the top of the
shuttle. I essayed to follow, and succeeded. Upon reach•
ing the other side we found we were landed in chaos, and
had to grope our way (the darkness was terrible) through
thick mud, under and over trees, timber, stones, and wrecks
of every kind. Upon reaching the cottages we were rejoiced
to find all their inhabitants safe, excepting poor Wright,
his wife, and the little girl who was visiting with them.
The end of Wright's house jutted out into the stream wkich
brought down a beam that broke a large hole through it ;
into this the stream poured until it threw down the front of
nthiteuhreo,uasen,dcawrerytihnink Wright,
gawaythe thehdoisorw,ife:and the child too ;
stairs, all the fur-
but, as the flood never reached the chamber in this house,
we are driven to the conclusion that the three persons who
perished must have been down stairs."
In the Keiham rolling mills the escape of the
workmen was very narrow indeed. The first alarm
was given by a man who had be©n asleep at the
bottom end of the mill, and who was awoke by the
rushing in of the waters. He hastened to where
his fellow-workmen were getting dinner—these men
being what are called the "night shift"—and gave
them warning. Fortunately, the gates of the yard
were closed, and the men had no means of getting out
by these means. Had :hey done so they would in-
evitably have been swept away by the tide which
passed in front of the buidings. They climbed on
the roof, and as has already been told contrived, in
their extreme eagerness to escape, to set it on fire in
doing to. But the more remarkable circumstance
remains to be told. The man who gave the alarm,
and who was the means of saving the lives of so
many of his folio wsworkmen, lost his father, mother,