Paul Lester

The Great Galveston Disaster


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of that time.

      At the present day the fens of Lincolnshire are defended from the North Sea by some of the finest engineering works in the world, and yet it is much to be doubted whether they would prove effective against such invasions as that which has just overwhelmed Galveston.

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      There are ancient town records in nearly all the seacoast towns of Lincolnshire which tell of the inundation of 1571. There was then as there is now, a chime of bells in the tower of St. Botolph, Boston, and when the tide was seen to be sweeping away the barriers the Mayor of Boston himself mounted the belfry stairs and had played the old love song called “The Brides of Enderby” as an alarm to the country side.

      But the tide came so unheralded, there having been no premonition of it in storm or tempest, that the meaning of the chimes was not understood. Savants have never had an explanation of the Lincolnshire tide, coming as it did so unheralded by anything threatening a cataclysm. The flood found the people unprepared and thousands fell victims to its fury.

      There is nothing in literature, and nothing of course in the musty archives of the Lincolnshire towns, conveying as vivid an impression of the horror of the day and night as the Ingelow verses. They are written in the old, and what now seems to us the quaint, English of that day.

      The story is told by an old woman whose daughter, out with her two children looking and calling for the cows at eventide, is overwhelmed and drowned.

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      Perhaps it is a safe conclusion that the tragedy poetry as set for us on the Lincolnshire stage had found expression in real life along the Texas coasts. The old Lincolnshire woman’s plaintive narrative has never seemed unreal, because it is filled with the spirit of a homely life, but just now it seems like a voice from out the past telling us of the tragedy now at our doors. The poem is a very long one, but a few selections from its narration of the widespread desolation of the country will picture much of the gulf coast of Texas at this time. The cry of the housewife for the cattle dies out in the evening stillness and then the old dame sees the flood:

      And lo, along the river’s bed

      A mighty eygre reared his crest,

      And up the river raging sped.

      It swept with thunderous noises loud—

      Shaped like a curling, snow-white cloud,

      Or like a demon in a shroud.

      And rearing Lindus, backward pressed,

      Shook all her trembling banks amain,

      Then madly at the eygre’s breast

      Flung uppe her weltering walls again,

      Then bankes came down with ruin and rout,

      Then beaten foam flew round about,

      Then all the mighty floods were out.

      So farre, so fast the eygre drave

      The heart had hardly time to beat

      Before a shallow seething wave

      Sobbed in the grasses at our feet;

      The feet had hardly time to flee

      Before it brake against the knee—

      And all the world was in the sea.

      That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,

      That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea—

      A fatal ebbe and flow, alas,

      To many more than mine and me.

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      Many of the most fatal tidal waves of which we have any history, have been accompanied by earthquakes, adding to their horrors, but making it impossible to say whether the earthquake or the inundation has been the more fatal and destructive. The great earthquake at Lisbon in 1755 was accompanied by a tidal wave which, rolling up the Tagus river from the ocean, submerged all the lower parts of the city and destroyed thousands of lives which might possibly have escaped the earthquake shocks.

      When the earthquake came to Caraccas in 1812 there was a tidal wave at La Guyra, the entrepot of Caraccas, which destroyed many lives. Five years ago a series of tidal waves, accompanied by or alternating with earthquake shocks, visited some of the most populous islands of Japan. The tidal waves reached from fifteen to twenty miles inland, being of such a height, force and volume, ten miles from the ocean, particularly when restricted to narrow valleys, as to be capable of destroying much life.

      The number of human lives lost at that time has never been stated in any English newspaper, but that it ran far into the thousands there is no room to doubt. Ten thousand is more apt to be an under than an over estimate, such were the ravages of the combined seismic and cataclysmic terrors visited upon that part of the world during nearly a week of days and nights of horror, which, fortunately, come but seldom in the experience of the race.

      The affliction of Texas, while much less than this, is still monumental, and will always rank among the great catastrophes of history. Perhaps there have been events more destructive of life in times or places where it was impossible that any record of them should be left. But few such are known to history. Nor is it likely that the future will often bring to any part of the world a severer affliction than that which has fallen upon our Gulf coast.

       Vivid Pictures of Suffering in Every Street and House—The Gulf City a Ghastly Mass of Ruins—The Sea Giving Up Its Dead—Supplies Pouring in from Every Quarter.

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      As more definite information came from Galveston and the other coast towns of Texas that were in the path of the storm, the horrors of the situation increased. Most people were inclined to look upon the first reports, made in a hurry and in intense excitement, as grossly exaggerated, but the first reports from Texas, far from being over-drawn, greatly understated the destructive effects of the storm.

      Thousands of persons lost their lives, and many thousands more lost all their homes and all their possessions. A large population was without shelter, clothing, food and medicine, in the midst of scenes of wreck and ruin. The sanitary condition of Galveston was appalling and threatened a season of pestilence.

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      The people were undergoing a period of the sharpest deprivation, sickness prevailed, and intense suffering was in store for them. The plight of the city and its inhabitants was such that it would be impossible to exaggerate the picture, and demanded from the prosperous and humane everywhere the promptest and most abundant outpouring of gifts.

      Food, clothing, household goods, provisions of every kind, household utensils, medicines and money were needed by the stricken city and its impoverished men, women and children. There has been no case in our history which appealed more strongly for sympathy and aid.

      Former State Senator Wortham, who went to Galveston