Rensselaer Union, Volume 3, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 September 1870 — Graphic Account of the Great Conflagration in the Canadian Woods. [ARTICLE]

Graphic Account of the Great Conflagration in the Canadian Woods.

From the New York Timet, Sept. 12. Mesbhh. James 8. Randle and H. E. Dodge, of this city; Gilbert F. Spencer, of Chicago, and John W. Dudley, of New Haven, Conn., have just returned from Canada—from the vast district which was recently burnt. They encountered a terrible ordeal of Are and smoke, and were almost famished, barely escaping with their lives. They furnish the following, account of the terrible conflagration: “ After having made a long journey in carriages, viewing certain lands in which we were interested, we drew near to what seemed to be a large village on Are. We did not dream of the near aproachof danger, although the blaze was reflected in the Armament, and lighted up our road with an indescribably beautiful radiance. It made the sand and pebbles in the road look like precious stones. The dark edges of the woods also seemed surrounded by huge flickering shadows. As the night advanced the glow and glare grew brighter, until at last its intensity warned us that an extensive conflagration. was in progress. Wo continued on toward it, however, wholly unconscious of the great danger into which we were going. At ■ length, after an ominous silence, Mr. Dudley said : “Great Go<i! I believe the world is on fire!” Just then a great flash I t up the road from behind us. We looked bsck, and were surprised at the sight. A low moor between the forests, perhaps ten miles in width, covered with dry grass, was in a blaze, and the fire flying swifter than a locomotive. At the same time the wind changed, and the air, which had been growing hot, became almost unbearable. A gust of wind brought clouds of cinders that 'dropped about us. The horses trembled and neighed with fright, and as the hot cinders touched them, they became almost ungovernable. The earth seemed to be a vast fiery furnace, and the heat came puffing past our faces like the glow from a forge. Our eyes ached and smarted with the smoke and ashes. Several times our clothing caught fire from the falling coals. Now we were hemmed in on three sides by the fire-fiend, and the only avenue ofcscape was the road alongside the course of a creek, where the flames had not yet reached. Down this road our horses plunged at a rapid gait. The poor animals screamed with terror as the cinders showered about them, and the velocity of our progress was so terrific that we had to hold on with all our might, as the wagon went whirling and crashing over stones. At last we came to a bridge, and reined down to the stream, hoping to gather some relief by plunging in the water, for our flesh seemed roasting. We dashed in the horses, neighing and pawihg, up to their backs in the deepest part. It seemed only a mo mient before all the country was suddenly sheeted in flame; our road was cut off, and but a narrow stretch of marshland was free from the flames. We abandoned the horses to their fate arid dashed over the swamp. Now we would be in mire up toour knees—Mr. Spencer nearly sank to his neck—and come out all covered with slime. At length, however, we came to dry ground where the fire had spent its fury, and left a blackened charred wilderness of posts, stumps and sod. At daylight we came to an opening where a farm-nouse had stood. Here was a sad spectacle, at the sight of which we forgot our own situation. The embers of the fire were yet smouldering, and some of the blackened timbers lay over the foundation unconsumed. The baru was entirely gone, wagon-tires and iron-work, ! with the skeletons of cattle scattered around. The well was uncovered, and we looked down upon the body of .a man clasping a young girl. They had evidently been suffocated from the foul gas, while seeking escape from the Are. As we moved away from the scene toward the house, we saw the figure of a woman with a babe in her arms. Both bodies were half consumed. Two miles further on we came to another scene of desolation. A house lay in ruins in the midst of a charred and blackened waste. A cow-shed had eicaped, and in thir wire the family, all but one. The mother commenced to tell her tale of suffering, but broke down with griefl The husband said they had been surprised in the night, and hurriedly es caped through the blinding, choking smoke. There were five children, the eldest being 16, and the youngest 3. Thrfce times ho rushed into the burning house, each time rescuing a child. The mother was almost insensible from fright, and he had to drag her out by main force. A little one, 7 years old, the pet of the family, stood and said ; ‘Take Janie and Mollie (the two younger ones) first, pana,’ and waited patiently until her turn, lly some means, in the confusion of the Hour, he thought she had been rescued, until her voice, now in tones of alarm, cried out, ‘Oh, papa! take me, take me, too! Come, papa! come, para!’ The father dashed toward the house, which was now tottering ip the flames, but wia too late. He had hardly placed his foot upon the stairs when the roof fell in, and the entire structure came clashing down. ‘Ah ! sir, I would have gone in and died with her, but I remembered tho others. But I'll never forgive myself—never, never!' “The names of this family are Talmadge; the others were Cornwall” The .narratore of the above saw many other terrible scenes of ruin and devastation during their journey. Their eye-

lashes, whiskers and hair were singed, and their faces and hands were badly blistered. Mr. Dudley’s eyes were wry badly injured.