Galveston, TX Hurricane, Sept 1875
THE GULF CYCLONE
The Loss at Galveston Stated at $4,000,000---Desolation After the Subsidence of the Waters.
WORK OF THE STORM.
The Galveston News of the 20th (Sunday) gives an account of the appearance of the town and the damage done, as follows:
Yesterday morning dawned clear and bright, and the faces of citizens wore a cheerful appearance. Business was generally resumed at an early hour, and the cool northwest wind had the effect of reviving the spirits of a people who had passed through a trying ordeal of sixty hours' duration.
The water began to subside early Friday night, and yesterday morning water was near its accustomed level.
DAMAGE TO COTTON PRESSES
Merchants' Press, 300 bales of cotton slightly injured.
Factors' Press, building damaged $1,000, and 200 bales of cotton wet.
Shippers' Press, 150 bales of cotton wet.
Gulf City Press, damage $5,000.
Texas Press, about $15,000.
On the beach were seen five houses nearly sunk in sand, and around them were seen a large number of men, women, and children viewing the wrecks. In fact, the beach was rather numerously visited by all classes to see what had been done, while was also seen a totally different class and more numerous, who were mostly seeking for remnants or relics of their late possessions, a large proportion being women and children, while the men were following and leading drays with pieces of fencing, cistern, household furniture, and even parts of houses, which were piled up on the route of he reporter as to inconvenience travel in many places. Those wrecks were even strewn up ass high as Broadway and Thirteenth streets, and all over the eastern portion of the city were seen furniture scattered around and being patched up, clothes, bedding, and carpets hanging from windows and houses, drying.
Traveling toward Thirteenth street, the reporter saw Mr. M. Rosenbaum contemplating the wreck of five cottages owned by him, which before the flood came stood at the intersection of Thirteenth street and Ar[ineligible]. The houses were bent and twisted in every direction, and one of them stood in a pool three feet, formed by the action of the waves.
Those who have traveled over the "Great American Desert" anterior to the advent of railways to the setting sun will remember the huge piles of bones which mark the path of some lost caravan in the sea of sand. While the reporter found no piles of bones marking the places where men and animals had dropped and died through fatigue, still he found a Golgotha of wrecked and dismantled dwellings. Between Avenues O and I and Eighteenth and Twentieth streets there are no less than twenty-one small houses, the majority of them devoid of any signs of human life, torn and twisted in every conceivable shape. The loss in this particular section alone can fall short of $2,500 to buildings alone.
From Twelfth to Twenty-fifth street the beach is bare. Peter Norton's fish-house, the Ocean Hotel, Tom Collins' hostelry at the foot of Tremont street, and the cottage of Mr. James I. Sherwood just west of it, have gone. At it is, nothing save a few pieces of timber and some scattered salt cedars are all that remain. The Ocean House is estimated at $4,000, and Mr. Collins' place at a like figure.