St. Louis Post-Dispatch from St. Louis, Missouri • Page 41

Sunday LOUIS POST-DISPATCH so, iooo. INCIDENTS AFTER THE GALVESTON HURRICANE AS TOLD BY THE SUNDAY 5 POST-DISPATCH SPECIAL fc CORRESPONDENT, jfry I ir '1 re yg-QA? LC' uorae: KPTVJ AT jRWD OV? 7 i- a in Three policeman all that were able to report the night of the storm worked in the dark, dangerous places of the city saving lives and when released from duty at dawn, returned to report that all they held diar and all they owned was lost. case of mistaken identity, but it passed nic photograph from under the inside band and I let it pass. "got in. Little Biondi fought the wind and waters to save his master's regimental flag and reported, almost naked, wounded and crying bitterly only because the waves had torn the precious emblem from his grasp.

COL. M'CALFB is a man of iron, a soldier descended from a long line of soldiers, but his heart is tender. Sitting at table in the dining hall of the Tremont. his only resting time, he told me some touching stories of his experiences at headquarters office during the vul-ed one with laughter were passed he said: "The other day I had business out in the vicinity of where my home used to be, and I found a piece of my house. I recognized it by the boards, and in the mass of timbers I found this.

It is a picture of my mother and myself, taken when I was a little boy. Money can't buy that from me." IN Galveston there is a man so utterly bereft of worldly goods that he is willing to Sell the tomb of his own child for money enough to get his living first few frantic without notice. If the late Bill Nye had been there he would have tried to write a Grav's Flegv or a How Correspondents Entered, When McCaleb Cried. days. Here is one of them; 'Two or three davs alter the storm -t-: I I there came into the office a big fellow anu oi tne c.ty.

All he owned save this tomb is gone, but his wife and children are safe. He offered the vault for sale to get money to leave the city. was busy from the first. I quite forgot little Biondi in the stress and press of terrible things. You are here, and yon understand how that could be.

"About two days after the btorni young Biondi, with about a third of a suit of clothes on and patches and bandages enough on his head and hands to make a shirt, limped into headquarters and stood at attention. He saluted gravely, just as he was wont to do during the war. "I was surprised to sec the boy alive, but very glad for he is brave and good, "'Will, what is it, I asked. 'I held on to it as long as I couid. said the boy, with tears coursing down his cheeks.

'I tried to save it, but it was no use, and I had to let it go, and it got lost, and here I am, and it's "I thought the boy had lost his mind. 'What do you mean what on tarth ate you driving at, I inquired. "'It was the flag. Colonel; I tried to sae our Hag, our regimental flag. I tried to save it, but it was torn from "You may know that I was deeply touched.

Being urged to tell about it. the boy said that when the house went down he grabbed the flag that we had brought home from the war. To him ib was the most sacred relic and he thought that to lose it would be disgrace. "lie floated out amid the wreckage clasping the folds of the flag to his breaM. He had to swim, to dodge flying timbers and slate and brick, but for a long time he clutched the flag.

It became torn, tan-gled in the whirling debris; it dragged him down tinder timbers, and he choked and strangled, but he held on to the flag. At last the hurricane snatched it from his hands and he was cat up on a drift, bruised and battered, but a true soldier boy still. "And now he cries because he couhl not save the flag." GALVKSTON is glutted with heroes, li every man. woman and child who risked life to save others were prcsetited with a life-saver's medal the medal mints would have to work nights rn.t,,. Summer.

I had 01 I'omicat prominence. Having named Lacy, a Would Sell His Tomb. held one of the highest offices in that part of the state, lie' was horn and reared in Galveston, hut i. 4 9 he is determined to send his family Jo St. Louis or Chicago and follow himself when he ran dispose of his city residence lots, denuded of houses, for a few dollars.

"My home and all it contained, all I had, was swept away," he told me. "Last week I was worth flaunt). Today I have not ten cents to buy a breakfast. "I have one residence lot which cost me IJ.joO. I will gladly sell it for $JV.

Out there in the cemetery I have a child entombed, that died nine years ago. I built a splendid vault, costing My wife and children must be sent away from this place, and I am willing to bury my dead child's remains and sell the vault to raise a stake so that I can get my folks out of Galveston." Later I was told that this man offered his residence lot for never seen him before. He had a voice like a foghorn. He had been working hard, burying and burning bodies, digging into the drifts, ever since Sunday morning. But Lacy had a grievance, and grievances were not proper those days.

He stamped and stormed. He was not being treated right. Lacy had lost everything in the wreck, and he had an idea that he was not getting as much relief as he was entitled to. "I asked him how much he required for his family. 'My family? They are all he replied.

'There's nobody left but 'T had been a little angry at the man, but this touched tne, for I had my wife. I began to tell him how I had lost my home and everything I owned, thinking to console him by establishing a fellow-feeling. 'Why, I said to all I have left is this red shirt I am wearing, and these trousers and shoes. I haven't even a change of underclothes. I haven't got a cent.

"The great big cotton jammer's anger subsided at once. He put his hand in his poc ket and drew out a dollar bill. Offering it to me he said: BY THF SUNDAY POST-DISPATCH CORRESPONDENT. Who was the first newspaper mm to reach Galveston. WHEN I.

left Galveston a few days ago I felt as though I were escaping from a graveyard; that the smell of the toinb chins; to my gat-mcnts. Alter ten days, immured, amid the hideous death's-head horrors. Witnessing the reaping of corpses, scenting the smell of seared flesh in a hundred funeral pyres, walking among graves so shallow that their uncoffined inmates might have arisen if suddenly restored to life, hearing innumerable tales of swift and terrible bereavement, looking into thousands of faces whence the light of hope departing had given place to the blank and starless midnighi of despair until my soul was aged and shriveled witli unavailing pity. I wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, in some spot where Gvd still reigned, where, the. trees were lush with green and the grass was nnrrampled and untainted, where flowers blossomed, where birds" sang, where hope still thrilled the heart and love won answering love, and there were no hearts bruised and broken, no men and.

women and little children staring with maniac eyes into vacancy, no nightmare of madness, no desolation, no death. War is hell, and the battlefield sown with the slain of the foe, and friend shows death in fearsome shape; but not the frozen roads black with corpses that marked Napoleon's retreat from Moscow, nor the deep ravine heaped high with mangled tecds and troopers at Waterloo, nor yet the swath of slain reaped down in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg was half so hellish, so horrible, so heart-sickening as the scattered corpses, bloated and blackened, gashed! and gored, of the thousands of non-combatants who lay at Galveston in the twisted ruins of their homes. There is of compensation for the death of a soldier who falls in the front of the battle, with his face forward and the thrill of patriotic ardor heightening his high resolve to die for the faith of the fatherland; but to be caught up in the whirlwind, to t.c shrieking hurricane, to be a passive whip in the hands of the almighty elements in their fiercest wrath, to be sucked into maelstroms of salt sea belched forth upon the laud, to be dashed down at last lifeless, amid the lifeless lumber of one's razed and ravished home, there to lie whilst winged buzzards of the air feast upon the hotly and armed buzzards of the earth gloat over sacred trinkets snatched from neck wrist and finger where is the compensation? Such is the thought: that comes to the stranger in Galveston. The resident-is II ICR is one little hero who is dif ferent front the others. It was not life he tried to save.

It was an inan on the train. It was firmly and obstinately refused. Morning came, and with it an increased determination to board that train. I palavered with the Mayor's clerks until it was too late to get breakfast. The street cars were not running.

I ran a mite to reach the depot. Having been told that no one could enter Galveston without rations, I tried to buy some sandwiches at the depot lunch stand. There was a sandwich famine. Finally I prevailed upon the waiter to sell me two small ham sandwiches. Then I made a dash for the train.

A Texas Volunteer Guard captain stood on the platform and exacted a mayoralty permit from each person who got aboard. I was turned down, not having the necessary paper. No argument moved the captain. Finally he tid me to see the superintendent of the railroad, who was standing near. I saw the superintendent.

He was like a rock. We clashed and he stood firm. Just as the train was ready to start I espied Congressman K. B. Haw ley, who lives in Galveston, and is the only Republican congressman from Texas.

The day before I had met him on the train. Ilawlcy is almost as powerful down there as martial law. As soon as he saw me he realized that I was not a ghoul going in to rob the dead. "Let this man pass," said the congressman. "He's all right." I passed.

In the train all the permits were taken up, thus putting me on a level with the others, so far as the next guard line was concerned. Nearly five hours were required to run the fifty miles to Texas City. The train Mopped many times and waited for the track to be laid in front. About men, nearly all of whom had relatives in Galveston, living or lost, were aboard. It was like a funeral journey.

Some of them had newspaper lists of, the known dead up to that tune and had read the names of their loved (Mies among the lost. Others stiil id hope. All were sad and anxious. When the train reached Texas City we saw the Iawrtncc at her wharf and had no thought of further delay. But a line of soldiers informed us of Gen.

Scurry's order to admit no one, and even Congressman Hawley's efforts were of no further use. We sat on the sand and thought. A few men in the party, more determined than the others, plotted. A small sloop was anchored a hundred yards out in the bay. I became one of a syndicate to purchase the sloop and sail in after dark, intending to land west the city and try to run the guard.

But about 4 o'clock in the afternoon it was observed that some men were passing the guard on the pier and boarding a two-masted fishing schooner. Gen. Scurry had relaxed his exclusion order in some degree, to permit men who could be identified as residents of Galveston to enter. Two private soldiers from Galveston, whom I never saw before and have not seen since, identified nie. It was a the expression on his face and secured his permit in the usual way; but Thieman himself tells the story differently, and his version undoubtedly is correct.

He paid f'5 for a heavy blue shirt such as soldiers and hospital attendants in the army wear. He went down on the second train which ran into Texas City and passed through the military line on the pier as a hospital attendant. When he reached the Tremont Hotel he hung his blue shirt on a hook and donned a cooler garment, for the weather was exceedingly hot. Some one stole his arcny shirt before an hour had passed, and he mourned the loss of a valuable souvenir. John Fay of the Xew York World and W.

B. Stevens of the St. Louis Globe-Democrat wire stalled at the frontier. They were told that no one except soldiers. United States marshals, Red Cross nurses and physicians were wanted in Galveston.

They were in despair until Mr. Stevens happened to see United States Marshal Grant, whom he knew. Grant was just going in. Stevens and Fay held a brief consultation with the official and went in with him as deputy marshals. A Dallas newspaper man struck a fine streak of luck after basking in the sun of the Texas City flats for half a day.

Gen. Scurry had modified exclusion act to admit relief committees for fraternal orders. Half a dozen men representing the Odd Fellows arrived at Texas City, armed with credentials. The names of the six were properly listed and it was easy sailing for them. The Dallas man saw the steamer Lawrence, which carried passengers over to Galveston, rapidly filling up and nearly ready to start.

He almost wept. There would be no other boat trip that evening, nor any train back to Houston. The prospect of a night on the flats, smelling of many corpses, was not pleasant. Homer Smith of the Odd Fellows' committee suddenly took sick and declared his intention not to go in. He proceeded to camp out on the beach.

As the lieutenant of the guard called off the names of the Odd Fellow the Dallas man answered to the name of Homer Smith and was passed through the lines. The other Odd Fellows smiled. How did I get in? Well, that is easier told than done. Tuesday night I reached Houston, the southern limit of railway travel at that time. A train had crawled up from the lowlands six or seven miles from the bay shore that day.

over rails that had been warped by the flood. South of that the track had been swept' away in spots, and a force of men were rebuilding it Tfiesday night. I learned that a train would go out Wednesday morning at 7:30 o'clock, on the International Great Northern Line, and that an effort would be made to make a connection with the track of the Galveston, Houston Henderson a few miles front the shore and back up to Texas City. All night I worked, mainly in a vain effort to induce Mayor Bradshear and his assistants to issue me a pennjt to go down imate object, but the story as told by for a month. During my stay in Gahrs- A Hunt McCaleb sent a thrill through every Glut of ton I heard hun ut Colonel.

I'm awful sorry for you. Here, listener. lament for Adonais. Mark Twain would have blotted his paper with tears. But just outside of Galveston, the first few days after the calamity, funny things were happening; that is to say, viewed from this distance they seem funny, but at the time they were uite serious to those most concerned the newspaper correspondents.

How did the newspaper men get into Galveston? As a rule an accredited correspondent, especially it he be of the "staff" brand, is permitted to go almost anywhere. Not even the headquarters of an army corps on the day of battle are closed to him. His authority as a representative of the Fourth Estate the great daily paper is open sesame the world over. Until recent days there was a forbidden city in China which was closed to the news writer, it is true, and posibly to this day there are parts of Thibet which he cannot enter with impunity and immunity; but the rest oi the world is his oyster, which he may open with his pencil. With Galveston under martial law it was different.

Orders were issued that no man be allowed to enter. The reporter, being a mere man. necessarily was included in the inhibition. Consequently he found it as difficult to "go in," as the phrase Yuns dow there, as it is to get into Thibet. It was not until the Wednesday after the storm that Galveston became a forbidden city.

Gen. Scurry of the Texas Volunteer Guard, who had been made military dictator by Mayor Jones, determined that the riff-raff and bobtail of humanity must be kept out, ami in order to do this he promulgated an edict that no one should be admitted'. The correspondents did not arrive at the Galveston frontier until that day, and the Post-Dispatch man was the first on the ground. But of this mure anon. Paul Thieman of the Kansas City Star, the political editorial writer for that paper, was among the first to arrive.

He was caught Sunday afternoon at the Star office and sent away on the first train, without au ounce of baggage. Thieman is a big He could travel on his looks anywhere except into Galveston, At Houston it was necessary for all who would board the train running to Texas City, the embarking point for Galveston, to procure a permit from Mayor Brashear. To procure this permit it was necessary for the applicant to declare that he had female relatives in the fallen city. Thieman spent half a day in the effort to get a permit to board the train, every coach door of which was guarded by soldiers. His newspaper credentials were of no Use; the permit was refused.

It is told by Houston Post men that Thieman bought some different clothing, altered Heroes. dreds of stories of betoisin. but nt The Story of Biondi. McCaleb was adjutant general in Gen. Scurry's ad-miubtraliou of the city tinder tnartiaJ take this; I've got one more "I reckon." concluded Col.

McCaleb. if I hadn't been a military nun I should have cried." And the rest of us. who noticed a telltale moisture in the colonel's eyes as he scolded the waiter for his slowness, reckoned that perhaps he did cry in spite of being a military man. Then McCaleb told a little talc in a different vein, and we all braced up. He said ne of cowardice In that frightful deluge and hurricane there were deeds as brae as eer earned the Victoria Cros, or the medal of honor which I'ncle Sam gir to his soldiers who have hazarded hie in heroic feats.

Of the living heroes there hundreds. They are white and hl.nk don't forget that. The negro in Galveston, despite certain slanderous pencils, as a rule did splendid work both during an. I since the storm. law.

He was in personal charge oi the headquarters office and was the busiest man in Galveston for ten days after the storm. During the Spanish war McCaleb wis lieutenant-colonel of the First United that a da? or two ago a woman came into Statcs In his regiment was an headquarters office and asked to see him iujan uoyi ony years old at the personally. time, who had managed to enlist in some "Colonel," she said, "I want you to Way. His name was Adolf Biondi. Col.

send a file of soldiers down to my street. McCaleb took an interest in the boy and Some folks around the corner have got found him so earnest and faithful that my pug dog. and they won't give it he offered him a home after the regiment They say it belongs to them, but it was mustered out. Young Biondi went to doesn't, and now I want you to send live in the colonel's beautiful home Galveston, near the south beach. Col.

and Mr. McCaleb became much attached to Adolf. There were no children in the family. ''I saved my wile," said Col. McCaleb, in telling me the story.

but we lost everything we owned. I have not a cent in (the world. Our home was beautiful. soldiers out there and make them give my doggy oack." "Madam." said McCaleb, with dignity, "this city has not been put under martial law for the purpose of recovering pug dogs who have forgotten whom they belong to." Previously Col. McCaleb had told me that the loss of pictures of his ancestors Black and white, the heroes Ki, it the streets unconscious of the f.i that they have done deeds of vtilor which in ordinary circumstances would make the world ring with plaudits They do not boa--t of these ai ts.

The man who got about Galveston bragging of his Inc. saving work is 'ikrly to be con.ionttd with a personal alibi which he tannot break down. The read heroes hi oth-T do the talking, and it, is diiiicu't for cvrn a newspaper man to get them tr'A li.tt they did. So much for the I.vmg hcrocv But what of the dead? What of the hundred of brave fellow who. to save n- or ihiM or t'riend.

leaped into that iimi strotn and were up a-i 1 What of the splendid women who, trek- CONTINUED ON THE NEXT PAQS OF THIS MAGAZINE WeVhaa such pretty trees and vines in the tor several generations, swept away with yard, and flowers, and-oh, everything else, had grieved him deeply, There's nothing of it left. If the devil! I had lost incapable of thinking. He has passed through hell. LKT ns turn to a lighter theme. In Galveston it was imposible to write a joke, or even to think one.

Inci-vkiits which elsewhere would have ccjii- lor ne vaiueti suclt relics highly. my wife I believe I should have quit for As he took his old straw hat off the good hatrack on leaving the dining hall he "After the storm I deemed it duty turned to me, and taking a battered litt'e to offer my services to the tffy. and I.