St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1893-10-22
THE DANCE OF DEATH.
A "Reminiscences of the Hurricane
on Lost Island in 1855,

on Lost Island in 1856.
The recent devastation by storm along
the Mississippi and the gulf coast is a
terrible reminder of that stupendous
storm of Aug. 10, 1856, when so many
lives were lost and so many Southern
homes made desOlate. Lost island was
favorite summer resort, and was
crowded with people of wealth and
fashion. The storm had increased in
fury day by day, but still the gay throng
needed not At the end a ball was in
progress, and after that came death.
The story Of that awful night is thus
graphically pictured by Lafcadio Hearn
in ''Chita-A Memory Of Lost Island"
The steamer Star was due from st.
Mary's that fearful morning. Could
she come? No one really believed it
no one. And, nevertheless, men strug-
gled to the roaring beach to look for
her, because hope is stronger than rea-
son. Perhaps it was such feeling that
forced men on the 10th day of August,
1856, to hope against hope for the COM
ing of the Star and to strain their eyes
toward far-off ferrebonne.
"Great Godr' shrieked a voice above
the shouting storm. "She is coming !"
1t was true. On she came, swaying,
rocking, plunging, with great white
ness wrapping her about like a cloud
and moving with her mOving-a tempest
whirl OF spray The excitement on
shore became wild. Men shouted them
selves hoarse; women laughed and
cried: all marveled at the madness of
the captain. The captain knew the Star
! was running race with death. She'll
win it." he muttered. She'll stand it.
Perhaps they'll have need of me to-
| night
She won. The brave little vessel rode
| at last into the bayou. And still the
wind increased its paroxysmal power.
Cottages began TO rock. Some slid
away from the solid props. A chimney
! tumbled. Shutters were wrenched off.
verandas demolished. Light roofs
| lifted, dropped again and tapped into
ruin. And still the storm grew louder
and blacker with every passing hour.
The Star rose with the rising of the
| waters, dragging her anchor. Then one
! of her log chains parted, then another
/ Then the captain babe his men to cut
| away all her upper works clean TO the
| deck. Overheard into the seething wa
| tiers went her stacks, her pilot house.
! her cabins, and whirled away. And
the naked hull of the Star, still
| dragging its three anchors, labored on
! through the darkness, nearer and
! Dearer to the immense silhouette of the
| hotel, whose hundred windows were
now all afiame. The vast timber build
ing seemed to defy the storm. The
wind, roaring round it broad Yerandas.
| kissing through every crevice with the
sound of steam appeared to waste its
/ rage. And in the half lull between two
terrible gusts there came to the cap
| tain's ears sound that seemed strange
! in, a nj o h OT nnlritnd
a sound OF music.
Almost every evening throughout the
season there had been dancing at the
| great hall. There was dancing that
| night also, so the music and the mirth
went ON. They made Joy for themselves
those elegant guests-they TESTED and
! slipped rich wines, land they pledged and
| hoped and loved and promised, with
! never a thought of the morrow. on the
night of the 10th of August. 1856. Night
wore OF. Still the shining floor palpi-
| tated to the feet of the dancers, still the
| pianoforte pealed, and still the violin
sang.
Some one shrieked in the midst of the
| reyels-some girl who found her pretty
slippers wet. What could it be? Thin
| streams of water were spreading over
| the level planking-curiing about the
feet of the dancers. What could it be?
All the building shook now. Every
beam uttered its groan. What could it
] DE? There was clamor, panic, q