St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-03-29

sands of spectators, who never dreamed
of anything so horrible. Ol6 soldiers,
who survived the stormieSt battles of
the civil war, scared and thoughtful,
walk nervously about, and their discon-
nected utterances tell plainly enough
that the most horrible catastrophe of
their lives has been suddenly realized.
The early train OH the L., st. l.. & 7.
had race for life with the demon of
the elements, and for three long min
uteS one shrek of escaping steam,
mingled with the screams of the pas
sengers and the tornado and cry of
death,W terror never before realized
by man. Soon after crossing the Salt
river bridge, twenty miles below Louis
vile, the engineer heard an indescriba-
bic noise, and a queer cloud in the
southwest told him of more danger than
all the red lights that had ever flashed
on the steel ribbons before his engine.
The track there is perfect level for
some miles, and he knew that to be
caught in that place meant instant
death to himself and passengers. A
slight elevation of earth was four miles
In FROM OF him. To gain it would only
be small and weak protection against
the foe no man can fight, but he would
do his best. One wild, long, weird
blast of his whistle, and the throttle
was opened to the limit. Madly,
frantically, rushed his engine,
SWaying from side to side.
The train ran mile a minute, and
when the haven was reached the en-
gineer had barely strength enough left
to shut off the steam and bring his train
loaded with precious freight to stand
still. Tonight the streets Of this city,
lit only by sickly, Pickering gas lamps,
presents such
A Dismal Appearance
as could not well be imagined. Oc-
casionally one of the great numbering
wagons used for hauling hogsheads of
tobacco, drawn by double teams of
mules. comes rolling down Main street.
with belated load of the weed, and
awakens the echoes among the gloomy
walls that seem to stand as guards
over the dead that lay beneath
them. On the wheel mule tides an
ebony-Skinned man with a long raw
hide welded in one hand, which only
waves above his head, while he urges
his steeds on with his shouts that al
most make the victims of the disaster
turn in their unconscious graves. The
rolling truck. the deep voice, finally dies
away down the street, and the silence
OF death again falls upon the
faithful men, who would rob these mer-
clless graves OF their mangled occu-
pants. The state military organizations
were early in the day ordered out, and
on each street crossing in the devastated
district pace to and fro a number of
young men at even distances apart,
dressed in uniforms of gray,
and above whose heads glisten
in the flickering gas light the shiny
steel bayonets of their muskets. To all
who attempt to cross the lines and ven
ture under the dangerous walls halt
is called and unless the adventurer can
give good reason for passing through
the fated locality, or prove to be another
brave man come to enlist in the search
for the dead, he is turned adrift. But
| the menace of
The Juvenile Soldiers
with their muskets could not hold back
| the surging crowds that made almost
| impossible the side streets before night
| fall. Now that darkness has come upon
| the scenes of disaster which morbid
| people have such an unnatural desire
to witness, the women, of whom
the crowds seemed mostly COM
posed, have gone to their homes in
fear of the awfulness of the clty's as
pect, and men who might otherwise be
digging in the piles of ruins with the
brave fellows who are there, are kept
home to quiet the self-imposed fear of
the gentler sex, who in their i'm
aginationS picture the scenes wit
messed during the day. Here and there
along the residence streets, in the
wake of the tornado shine through the
windows from which the glass has been
shattered the gaslight from within.
Great shadows Of the occupants fit
backward and forward like phantoms,
| as theinhabitantS move about the rooms.
| Within can be seen the blazing fires,
which doubtless have little effect against
the cool draughtS from the windows.
| Sometimes the figure of man or
| woman sits silently in the windows,
and gazes sadly at the wreck and ruin
about them. Even less fortunate ones
than they are still loading the remnants
of their furniture on drays, backed up
against the curb. preparatory to leav-
ing their homes that now partially
lie in wreckage about the yards.
Adding to such scenes as this the Oft
appearance of ambulances and black
dead wagons carrying their mangled or
dead human freight to the hospitals or
to the
Homes of Moaning Families,
gives but a faint idea of the sad ap-
pearance of Louisville tonight. The
Crescent tobacco warehouse on Main
street is total wreck, and the amount
of tobacco lying open to the weather on
that atthoroughfare is almost beyond COM
prehension. Some of the wrecked
houses contain 1,500 and 30
hogsheads. Chapel street. lit
tie street extending from Mar
ket to Jefferson, is a confused mass of
debris, blocking passage in the street
altogether. There is not building left
standing on either side of the street. On
Main street, between Tenth and
Eleventh, a street car was lifted bod
lily from the track. and hurled with
such force against the side of
one of the brick walls as to not
only demolish the car entirely, but to
also instantly kill the team of mules at
tached to it. Along Market, Main and
Jefferson streets all the telegraph and
telephone poles have been blown down
and the wires strung across the street
like tangled braid. The beautiful Bax-
ter square is a scene of the most
wonderful devastation, perhaps ever
witnessed. The trees have all been up
rooted or twisted from their stumps-
except row of sturdy beech that defied