Their register reached nearly a hundred names and then the storm-driven humans began to arrive at the shelter in crowds of twenty and thirty. They were taken in through the windows and some were dragged through five feet of water into the basement, which long since had been abandoned, by ropes from treetops and snatched from roofs and other wreckage as it was hurled in the maddening torrents through the convent yards.
LIVING TO TAKE PLACES OF THE DEAD.
Within this religious home and in cells of the nuns four babies came into this world. Four mothers who had braved the treacherous elements and were snatched from the jaws of tragic death lay on cots in the nuns’ cells and four little innocents came into this world of sorrow where the world looked the blackest. Truly it could not be said that the quartette of precious ones first saw the light of day in the cell of a nun on this eventful night. It was the darkest and most terrible night in the lives of their mothers, and yet the mingled sadness and joy attending the birth of these angels was beyond the power of man to describe.
Mother Joseph, in speaking of the incidents of the night within the convent walls, said she believed it was the first time in the history of the world that a baby had been born in a nun’s cell in a convent. And they were christened, for no one expected to live to see the light of day, and it was voted that these jewels should not leave the world they had just entered without baptism. Regardless of the religious belief of the parents, a house dedicated to God and charity had afforded shelter to the storm-victim mothers, and they felt in their hearts that the good sisters should administer the baptism, which is administered in time of great danger, the presence of clergymen not being required.
The names of the mothers and the children could not be learned, with the exception of Mrs. William Henry Heldeman, who was one of the mothers, and whose new-born baby was christened William Henry. The experiences of this mother, if they could be reduced to words, would read like the wildest fiction. Only a chapter was learned, as told by Mother Joseph. Mrs. Heldeman was thrown on the mercies of the storm when her home went down and was swept away. The family had been separated when they started to abandon their home to the greed of the battling storm.
When Mrs. Heldeman was carried away on the roof of a wrecked cottage she lost all trace of the other members of the family, but never lost faith and courage. The roof struck some obstruction, and the next instant Mrs. Heldeman was hurled from her improvised raft and landed in a trunk which was rocked on the surging waters. Crumpled up in the trunk, the poor woman was protected to a limited extent and was afforded much warmth. On went the trunk, tossed high on the treacherous sea, bumping against driftwood, until the crude bark was hurled against the Ursuline Convent walls and was hauled into the building.
CLEARING THE STREETS.
The following report of the situation at Galveston bears date of September 17th: The work of clearing the streets of debris and wreckage is progressing steadily and with systematic rapidity. The military authorities have gradually perfected the system and divided the labors so that there is comparatively no interruption or delay in the gigantic undertaking.
To-day the reports filed at General Scurry’s headquarters up to 9 o’clock to-night reported the recovery and disposition of but forty-five bodies. A reporter, who made the rounds of about twenty gangs in charge of removing debris, noted the finding of 130 bodies of men, women and children and this report is known to be incomplete for the day’s work.
City Health Officer Wilkinson stated that he estimated that 40 per cent. of the debris of every description had been removed from the streets; that 95 per cent. of the dead bodies had been disposed of, and that 95 per cent. of the carcasses of animals had been removed from the city. But as the work of removing debris goes on more bodies are being unearthed every hour. There is still an immense amount of work to be done in this respect and in some quarters hardly an impression has been made in the mountains of wreckage piled up fifteen and twenty feet high.