Another man took his wife from one house to another by swimming until he had occupied three. Each fell in its turn, and then he took to the waves. They were separated and each, as the persons above mentioned, believed they were carried to sea. Strange to say, after three hours in the water he heard her call, and finally rescued her.
It is not necessary to go on and recite these instances, for there were thousands, each showing that in time of danger at least the best sentiments in man’s nature are aroused. It can be safely guessed that one-half of those who perished, died in their effort to aid others. The trite expression of “man’s inhumanity to man” has no place in all that may be written or spoken of this great tragedy.
DIRECTION OF THE STORM.
It is not at all remarkable that of all the statements in regard to the details of this storm no two persons can be found who agree on the direction of the wind and the currents. All agree that the most terrible blows which the town received came from the point of the compass which may be spoken of as between northeast and east. There are those who declare that first the wind was almost from the north. Then it veered till it was almost east, and then settled down to its herculean efforts from a point between the two; and yet there are others who say that it came from all directions at different times and prove it by the loss of windows in their houses.
These waves came in from the Gulf. They filled the bay. The water chased across the island, met the waves and then it seems there was a battle between the two elements. For the currents ran criss-cross. They went down one street, up another street and across lots. They seized a house here and placed it there. They seized a house there and placed it here. Men were carried to sea. Men were carried down the island. Men were carried across the bay by it. No chart can be even dreamed of their peculiarities. The wind lashed the water and it fled. That was all there was in it, and it fled in every direction, carrying on its bosom a shrieking people. It carried too, houses whole, houses in halves, houses in kindling wood.
The winds dipped and seized the debris and hurled it on. The air was filled with missiles of every kind. The water held them and threw them from wave to wave. The winds grasped them as they were thrown and hurled them further. Stoves, bath tubs, sewing machines, slates from roofs—these were as light in the hand of the two giants, wind and water, now in their fury, as the common match would be in the hand of the strong man.
From the northeast it is generally conceded the storm came. Galveston island runs nearly east and west. So it will be seen that it had a clean sweep from end to end of it. The streets are numbered across the island. They are lettered as they run with the island, east and west. For instance, the street running east and west nearest the bay is A street. Then there is B, and so on toward the Gulf. P and Q streets may be said to be two-thirds across the island, that is to say, they are three-quarters of a mile from the bay and a quarter of a mile from the Gulf. This is not an accurate statement and is only given to illustrate. Between Q street and the Gulf were hundreds and hundreds of houses. While many were fine mansions, the great majority of them were the houses of the poor.
HAMMERED INTO SHAPELESS MASSES.
Coming down the island from the east, the storm struck these habitations.
It was in this area, east and west, from one end of the town to the other, it did its worst. The large houses were overthrown. Where they fell they were hammered into shapeless masses. The small ones were taken up. A man can take two eggs and mash them against each other. The waters took the remnants and pushed them forward. One street of buildings would go down. That would be next to the Gulf. The timbers were hurled against another street. It would go down. The debris of the two would attack the third. The three would attack the fourth, and thus on till Q street was reached. Here the mass lodged.