The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1871-02-18

only 10 make visible the horrors of that
appalling night. Look where you might.
the eye rested upon nothing but the most
| dire observation-disclosures in ruins. trees
prostrated, fences swept away, and fields
as completely ruined as if fire had pass
ed over them. In every direction cattle
lay dead or dying, dead birds were here
and there piled up in heaps, trunks of
trees, stakes aud splinters were every
where projecting from the earth, into
which they had been deeply driven by the
force of the wind and over all that lately
beautiful island desoIation now reisned
supreme.
BY this time the fury of the tornado
had begun to abate but the wind still
blew so fercely that, in spite of my ut
most exertions, it took me a whole hour
to get back TO the ruins from which had
been so swiftly removed.
There the sight met my eyes beggars
description. Mrs. Palmer, Clara and the
children were still together where | had
left them; but the eldest daughter had
been killed by flying piece Of timber strik-
ing her on the head, and the others were
nearly distracted Mr.. p. was found under
a pile Of rubbish with broken leg, and
his son lay within few feet of him, with
a splinter Of a tree, supposed to have been
riven 10y lightning, driven completely thro'
his body. Let me draw a veil over the
awful, heart rendjng scene. which even
now | can only recall with shudder of
horror.
What l have so ftebly described as
happening at the house of my friend, Is
only faint picture Of the ruin, destruc~
tion and desolation which entirely extend
ed over the devoted island. BY eight
| O'Clock in the morning the late furious air
had become comparatively still, and the
bright, hot sun was shining calmly down
ugon a broad scene of death and woe.
And then, everywhere throughout the
| island, it was friend seeking friend, pa
| rents their children, children their parents,
husbands and wives one another-for
amid the wild fury Of the tempest. thou-
sands Of persons had become separated
in two many cases, alas never to meet
| again in life. All were pale, Mortified,
despairing and neighbor could not give
his aid and sympathy 10 neighbor, be-
scause Of the calamity which had equally
come upon himself Each family, so to
! speak, had alone to care for lis sick and
wounded, dig out and bury its dead and
| in some cases whole households lay crush
ed beneath their own ruins for days, and
corpses and carcasses everywhere sent
forth pesti!eniial ctiiuvia, so that many in
/ CTn I'D Of
seriously wounded scarcely one escaped
| fever, lock jaw and modification.
OF the eighteen persons, white and
black, in the dwelling Of my friend on
that awful night, nine perished within
| forty-eight hours, Mr.. Palmer himself
making one Of the fatal number.
Out of a population Of one hundred
thousand on this island, seventeen hun
dred lost their lives; and the living. be-
sides ali their other horrors, were threat
ened with famine, for nearly everything
in the way of food had been destroyed =
| OF corn from the fields, however, there
were found heaps, where it had been col
lccted by the wind; and this kept OF
starvation till provisions could be SEN
from the neighboring islands. England
when she heard of our great sorrows
quickly raised and sent US hundred thou
sand pounds sterling.
Three months later, the houses every
where had been rebuilt, new vegetation
had taken the place of the old. the entire
island looked as bright and peaceful as be
! fore it had been made a land of mournin!
| and bowling waste.