"About this time Mr. Barr's attention was directed to something in another part of the building, and for a while we lost sight of the storm, but suddenly we were startled by a tremendous clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash of dazzling brightness, and then the storm swept upon us in all its fury.
"The roar of the tempest, the crashing of thunder, and the dashing of hail-stones against the windows and upon the roof of the factory were really appalling. Awe-stricken, we stood and listened.
"Presently a man rushed into the room, and approaching Mr. Barr, said, 'Oh, sir, I do believe that every winder in the whole factory is broke with the hail. I never in my life see such stones before; they are surely five or six inches round.'
"This was no exaggeration. We hurried through the rooms on the exposed sides of the building, and everywhere destruction met our view: broken glass, hail-stones, and broken china were scattered over the floors. The tempest continued to rage with unabated fury long after ordinary storms would have exhausted themselves or have passed away.
"After a while men came in with pale and anxious faces, and told us that the river Severn had risen six feet in one hour, and that it was still rapidly rising, and they feared great distress would be occasioned by the flood.
"The time seemed interminable while we waited and watched for the storm to subside. At last, as if reluctantly, the thunder became more and more distant, and the lightning flashes less dazzling and terrific. Every one breathed more freely now. We felt as if a terrible dream had been upon us, and we were just waking from it. By-and-by the clouds drifted away, and only occasionally a far-off flash illumined the horizon. The air was wonderfully pure, and the moon and stars shone out brightly over a scene of desolation.
"That night I spent at Mr. Barr's house, and the following morning, after visiting the factory, we took a drive through the town, and out into the surrounding country. In the city, gardens were laid waste, trees were torn and almost stripped of their foliage, and nearly every window that faced the east was broken. One of the newspapers of the day said that the town looked as if it had been besieged.
"But the country—oh, how sad and desolate it looked! The fields of grass and corn that yesterday were so beautiful, and the luxuriant crops that promised such all abundant harvest, were everywhere beaten down and destroyed. The river, too, had risen twenty feet during the storm, and had swept madly over the adjacent fields, carrying away houses and barns, destroying many peaceful and pleasant homes, and sweeping herds of cattle from the pastures."[1]
"As we reached the top of a certain hill, I looked anxiously toward the river for a picturesque little cottage that I had often admired on account of its pretty porch that was overrun with roses and honeysuckle, and because of the fine elms that overshadowed it. I had always imagined that place to be the home of some refined person. All the surroundings indicated it, although it was quite apparent that the owner was not wealthy.
"'Ah,' said Mr. Barr, looking in the same direction, 'the Professor's little cottage has gone too!' He reined in his horses, and sat silently looking toward the spot.