Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1872-10-30
II. RHichaeI,s sieenIc-

The romantic story of the bells of St. Mi
chaePs church in Charleston, S. c., which we
copied day or two ago from Mrs. Carsons
book, reminds us of an incident in relation to
that church which probably has never been
printed, or if it has, is old enough and interest
ing enough to be told again. We heard it re-
lated long since by an old lady who witnessed
it when she was young girl, perhaps eighty
years ago.
This lady, who was from Massachusetts, was
on visit at Charleston in the latter part of the
last century. 1t was at time when there oc-
Cured fire which burned up considerable
portion of the city, and which for many years
marked an era in its history as "the time Of the
Great Fire.; though, doubtless, that ancient
date has been wiped out by events more recent
and more disastrous St. Michaels, however,
was then, as it has always continued to be, the
pride of the citizens of Charleston, VINO truly
claimed that it served, from its height, as a bea.
con to sailors approaching the coast, and was
the last thing sighted, far out at sea, by those
who were outward bound. And not only was it
their pride, but it almost seemed to them that
Providence had the beautiful old church in its
special keeping, when, the morning after the
great fire, they turned their eyes upward to see
its lofty spire almost piercing the clouds, while
beneath and all around il lay in blackened ruins
the fairest and largest part Of their beloved city,
and the ashes of so many of the homes of the
stricken people.
1t had, however, barely escaped destruction.
and that by an act of heroism which is now,
perhaps, forgotten in Charleston, but is re-
called by native of Massachusetts as a pleas.
ant Renaissance of his childhood and of the
venerable woman who told of the brave act of
which she was an eyewitness.
While the fire was raging and the whole CITY
seemed doomed to destruction, the mayor and
aldermen sat in solemn and anxious council
to devise ways and means to stay the cont1agra-
ton and TO provide Tor those who had lost all
their worldly Possessions and who stood half
naked and shiyprinn nv tba
oil their homes The news came to them pres
emily that St Michael's was in danger for the
fire was approaching the square where it stood
and storm of great burning brands was
showered down upon its roof and hurled against
its steepe. Men upon the roof put out the
fiery missiles as they fell, and could reach and
dislodge those that fastened themselves upon
the lower portion of the spire; but the danger
was that some burning single, borne far up in
the air by the gale, would make alodgment out
oil reach, ensuring, not only the destruction of
the church, but spreading the flaming messen-
gers far and wide from this great height over
parts Of the city as yet untouched by the rain of
fire.
The fear was well founded. 1t was not long
before flying brand caught and fastened itself
upon the topmost height of the spire. The spec
tators watched it anXously in the vain hope
that 1t would drop before its blaze caught upon
the surrounding wood work; but, held to its
place, perhaps by the wind, it kindled brighter
anu blIsutSl tlll IL WAS phil Ilub unless some
human hand could pluck it down, the spire and
all that would be involved in its destruction
were doomed. The helpless crowd looked mn
and watched the burning brand, but among
them all there was not one man fearless enough
or active enough to attempt to scale the ciddv
height. The mayor and the council stood in
| the square below, powerless and despairing like
| the rest, but offering large reward to any one
| who would attempt the daring feat of dislodg-
ing that speck OF fame that flickered in the gale
at the very summit OF the steeple, and grew each
moment brighter, and would not fall
But presently man appeared in tho belfry of
| the church, and leaning over the railing looked
| upward, as if measuring with his eyes the dis.
| lance OF the many feet of almost perpendicular
ascent that still lay between linn and the spot of
flame above him. Then he mounted upon the
railing and stretched his hands above him upon
| the steeple. From the crowd of thousands be-
low went up one single mighty shock that al.
most shook the air. about him; then a great
silence fell upon the multitude as they held
| their breaths, and their upturned faces grew
white in the ruddy light as they watched his
progress. Slowly, painfully, carefully and
| steadily he crept up and up, raising himself
| from one slight projection to another, invisible
| 10 those below, but which served him for foot.
| hold and which his hands could grasp. All
| around for many squares the fire ragged unheed-
ed, and men forgot their blazing homes as by
| the light Of their burning they watched this sol
itary figure creeping hundreds Of feet above
| them, up st. MichaePs steeple. AT length the
brand was within his reach, and holding on with
one hand only he seized the blazing mass with
the other and hurled it clear into the square
below, and the splre stood out in black once
more against the sky with no light upon it ex-
cept the reflection from the burning houses.
But not yet did the crowd dare to shou. out
their exultation that st. Michaels was saved,
Tor its savior still chung, moving speck, be.
meath the golden bail, the sight OF which the
sailors greeted SO far out to sea. Slowly, paiu-
fully, carefully, steadily he began the more
difficult descent, and not I'LL he had stepped
safely and firmly over the railing and into the