Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 April 1880 — TERRIBLE CALAMITY. [ARTICLE]

TERRIBLE CALAMITY.

The Town of .Vla.r-»li>ield, .710., Extinguished by a Tornado, and Nearly 100 People Killed. One of the most destructive cyclones on record visited the little town of Marshfield, the county seat of Webster county, Mo., at about 7 o'clock in the evening of Sunday, April 18. Marshfield is situated on the line of the St. Louis and San Francisco railroad, about 215 miles from St. Louis, It is located on a plateau of the Ozark mountains, its population is estimated at about 1,000. It was a thriving little plade, containing a bank, two grain elevators, two newspapers, two hotels, etc. From the accounts of this dire calamity telegraphed to the daily press we glean the following particulars : A cyclone, coming from the vicinity of Springfield, passed through Green and Webster c junties between 6 and 7 o’clock last evening, leaving a trail of desolation and death in its wake. Its course continues northeasterly all the way to the Gasconade river, a distance of 110 miles. Thu* far, reports from it show that on no former occasion in this Western country have the furious elements accomplished such a sum total of misery and distress. There are . wrecked homes all the way from the starting-point, six miles south of Springfield, to the Gasconade. Marshfield lay in the path of the terrible whirlwind, and a sadder scene than is presented here could not be imagined. It was not until 8 o’clock to-night I that telegraphic communication was restored. All is confusion yet, and the people are in such an excited state that it is almost impossible to get any intelligible report Many families are homeless, and have taken refuge in the cars standing at the station. The front rooms of the Court House are still standing, and have been converted into a morgue. The school building is used for a hospital. Up to 7 p. m. we have a death list of seventy-eight, and prospects of increasing it before morning. Many are yet missing, and a number of people have been’ hurriedly buried and no record kept. But fourteen buildings are left standing, and not a house in town but is more or less damaged. One case of a house being visited in search of victims resulted in the finding of two children killed outright, and one other Iving with its leg under the fallen timbers and shattered so as to i require amputation. The elder members of the family were nowhere to be found. In another j case a woman was lost, and no trace could be found of her at all. These are only two of a great many instances similar in character, and to write a description of the horrible suffering of all would be an utter unpossibility. The violence of the storm was such’that trees three feet through were for a space of several hundred yards wide lifted entirely out of tho ground, limbs twisted off and split into kindling-wood, and the bark of trees peeled off as if struck by lightning. Telegraph poles were twisted off at the ground as if they had been’nothing. Wires were carried hundreds of rods into the timber, and knotted along the limbs, as if they were made of cotton yarn. No ideacan be formed of the looks of the country except byactual observation. Everythinga.is being done by the people of neighboring towns to relieve the distressed people. It is truly a terrible and | most heart-rending calamity, one which will not ! soon be forgotten, an 1 which will leave its mark j on these two counties for vears. Dau Good and Janies Kinney were conductor and baggage-master, respectively, on the train that passed through the ill-fated town shortly . after the calamity. “What we saw of Marshfield,” said Mr. Good to a reporter, “can give you no definite idea of the damage done, but it was the most terrible scene'my eyes ever rested upon. Olir depot is about 300 yards from the square, and, when we came in, the few- persons around it were mad with excitement. The passengers caught the fever, the ladies beginning to scream and the gentlemen to rush around as if they were demented. The storm was still raging, and I myself did not feel justified in keeping my train longer than was necessary. As I looked out through the darkness, only reached by the light of buildings burning everywhere, I could distinguish or make out little except that where a short hour before there had been a flourishing town of 1,500 inhabitants, there was nothing but a chaos of wrecked houses. The lightning was blaz-. ing over the whole in almost continuous flashes, and I could hear the noise and confusion made by shouts, screams, and groans. I never saw or heard the like before, and, please God, I never want to again. As for particulars, I could only learn that the storm struck the town at the southwest corner and went through, taking even-thing before it —churches, Court House, business houses and private residences—until the extreme northwest corner was reached. The loss o c life must have been terrible, and there is many and many a person who will never he heard from again. It being Bunday afternoon, the people were at their houses, anil the tires were all right for supper. The tornado came and overturned the houses on the heads of the occupants. Many of the buildings caught fire, and in the confusion which followed no one knew what to do or how to act to save himself or any one else. Numbers of the wooden buildings began to blaze almost immediately, and the wrecks of bricks probably caught before morning. Of many of the people who were in their houses there will be nothing left but charred bones. The storm crossed our track four times, the first time six miles west of Marshfield; then again at Marshfield, the third time at Conway, fifteen miles this side, where it blew down a house and killed two children. This side of Dickson. 132 miles from St. Louis, it crossed the track for the fourth time. There was a section-house standing there on the edge of the bluff, which, when the wind struck it, contained a dozen persons. There is not a tiling to show that it ever stood there, except a platform. The house was carried 300 feet bodily and set down in the hollow. The force of the shock tore it all to pieces, and, strangest of all, no one in it was hurt seriously. A little child had its leg broken, and that was all. Thirty miles from here, at Cuba, a new Catholic church, which had just been erected, was blown down, but it was empty at the time, and no lives were lost.

The storm which wrought such frightful havoc at Marshfield was of almost-unexampled scope and severity. It extended with more or less violence frorn Kansas and Nebraska across Missouri and Illinois, and north into Wisconsin. In the James river valley, in the vicinity of Marshfield, some fifteen persons were killed, and houses and fences were :swept away as if they had been chaff. The town of Granby, Mo., was very seriously damaged. The town of Barrettsville, Moniteau county, was badly shaken up by the cyclone—nearly every house in the place being wholly or partially demolished, and several persons killed. North Moreau, a small hamlet in the same county, was nearly extinguished, and ten or eleven people killed. Rock county, Wis., suffered severely from the storm. Dwellings; barns, fences and orchards were mowed down relentlessly by the cruel storm-king ; and, while the loss of life was light, the destruction of property was greater probably than- marked the course of the sfefcrit in ‘ Other sections- of Wisconsin also suffered, though in a somewhat lesser degree. was one of theseverest, aswellasmost widespread in its extent, that ever visited the Western country, and it would require far more space than is at our command to follow it in its work of destruction, and record even a fraction of the disasters left in its wake. On Lake Michigan many disasters to shipping are reported.

’'-Additional Accounts. THE APPROACH OF THE BTOBM FIEND UPON THE DOOMED TOWN OF MARSHFIELD GRAPHICALLY DEPICTED. Additional reports from Marshfield, Mo., place the kflled’at eighty-one, and the seriously injured at about the same figure. The survivors were entirely destitute, Ihit charitable people in the. neighboring towns are doing everything in their power to alleviate the suffering. The same day, but a few hours earlier than that on which Marshfield was annihilated, a tornado of scarcely.kiss violence swept through Christian county, Mo. Twenty-nine houses were destroyed in one settlement, and several people killed. Pineville, Cassville and other small towns were partially wrecked, and a number of persons killed and wounded. Licking, in Texas county, a hamlet of a few hundred inhabitants, was struck by a cyclone a few hours later, and half the village laid in ruins. Twen-te-five of the citizens were killed or wounded. The storm extended away down into Arkansas, and reports received from that State indicate that it lost none of its force and destructiveness by the expansion. The little town of El Paso, White county, was leveled to the ground, and eight or ten people killed. From many other points in the State come reports of loss of hfe and damage to property. A correspondent at Marshfield, Mo., gives the

following graphic picture of the awful storm king as he bore down upon the ill-starred -town : “About 5 p. m, a heavy bank of black clouds ■gathered in the southwest, aud, as they concentrated, it was evident a storm was imminent But none suppqf jd that results so horrible were to follow. Within a few minutes of 6 p. m. many were startled by a loud roar in the southwest, and, upon looking, a cloud was seen, funnel-shaped, revolving from west to east with terrible velocity. The base of the cloud was black as night, the center being lighted up as by electricity, causing many at first sight to think it a burning building. This awful besom of destruction came on with great rapidity, struck the town at the southwest corner, widening and branching in its course, and, within thirty seconds, where stood our beautiful little city there was nothing but a mass of ruins filled with the dead and resounding with the cries of the wounded, and the lamentations of the survivors. The cyclone proper was preceded a few minutes by three mild shocks resembling an earthquake, which was quite apparent to those who observed the phenomenon closely. The few minutes that preceded the coming of the storm after its character was apparent gave an opportunity to many to seek places of as great safety as possible, but the majority wrere unaware of the proximity of danger until it was upon them, or were so struck with terror as to be unable to help themselves. The cyclone occupied about ten seconds in passing a given point, its most terrible havoc being at the immediate base, covering a surface from 250 to 300 yards wide, but drawing into and spreading devastation over a much wider surface. As soon as the survivors were assured of their safety the energies of all were turned to the saving of the wounded and the recovery of the dead, and the horrors attending this search words are inadequate to express. Whole families were buried under the ruins of their late happy homes, crushed and mangled beyond the semblance of human beings; others, maimed and wounded, shrieking or moaning over the dead bodies of their kin, or in speechless agony caressing the mangled forms of those they loved. To add to the horrors of the scene, a few moments after the storm passed fire broke out in a portion of the ruins, but, fortunately, it was confined to buildings from which the inmates had fled, so far as known. A cold rain set in a few minutes after the cyclone passed, and added much to the labor of search for the victims of the calamity, the darkness being intense except as the. weird and horrible scene was lit up by the flames from the burning ruins. Every house in the town that was left with a roof was turned into a hospital, and the Court House, <rf whi h the walls of the lower story were left standing, into a morgue. “ One young man was taken out who had passed the entire night beneath a network of beams and rafters. His legs were beneath a heavy iron post, and a large log lay across his chest. His head was free, and he could see about him. Once the ruins took tire, and the young man saw before him a fate most horrible, and he shrieked with the energy of despair. Several men hurrying by in search of missing friends were attracted by his cries, and stopped long enough to put out the fire by tearing the burning logs away. They tried to extricate the young man, but found it impossible, and were forced to let him remain until morning. One of his legs was broken, and he complained of a terrible pain in his chest where the log had lain. His must have been a night of terror,. Some say this visitation was a tornado-and not a whirlwind. It was unaccompanied by rain or electric phenomena. The tops of timber in the county for three miles west of the town are twisted off. Dead horses, cows, hogs and dogs are found all along the path of the storm, and fowls were killed. Some of the bodies of lighter animals were blown a great distance. Ywftng trees are barked completely, either by the force of the wind or the contact of the debris that tilled the air. The path of the tornado averaged about a quarter of a mile in width. It was an immense cloud of a conical shape, looking much like the smoke from burning oil. It was densely black in the center, but lighter on the edge. It rolled along with a roaring noise, and by its centrifugal force scattered tho debris of the wreck it was creating on either side. The air was fairly tilled with billions of pieces of plank. One man who saw it said that it was in shape like the little funnel whirlwinds which are frequent in March, carrying little pieces of paper and wood round and round. The rolling motion of the cloud is shown by the trees, the tops of which are not broken, but actually twisted off.”