Part 2

I now come to that locality over which my own observation extended, and concerning which--"Haud ignota loquor"--I can speak with a good degree of accuracy. The southern half of the village of Ercildoun came next in the track of the storm-cloud. As this is the only village over which the tornado traveled, a brief description would not be inappropriate.

This village contains about twenty dwellings. Twenty-five years ago it had considerable reputation as a manufacturing locality--large quantities of agricultural implements being made every year, and in addition a foundry was kept in full operation. It had at that time a daily mail, a valuable library, and many other attractions not then found in many villages of like size. Two Friends' Meeting Houses are located here, one in the centre and the other at the western extremity of the place. In the days when the anti-slavery agitation was beginning to rouse the people to a sense of the great evil of our country, and when it required something akin to heroism to feed and protect the fugitive slave on his road to the north, this little settlement of Friends did its whole duty in the cause of humanity, and was pretty widely known as a safe place for those fleeing from bondage. A public hall was erected in 1847, and dedicated to free discussion. The motto, "Let Truth and Error Grapple," was emblazoned on its front in bold letters, and the lecturers and leading reformers of the day often held discussions there which would have been a credit to towns and villages of much greater pretensions. In 1851 "Ercildoun Seminary for Young Men and Boys," was established, with Smedley Darlington as Principal. It was a four-story structure, of good dimensions, and could accommodate about fifty pupils. As such, it was conducted for about three years, when the proprietor changed it to a boarding school for girls, and continued it thus for seven years, when it passed into the hands of its present proprietor, and afterwards was known as "Ercildoun Seminary for Young Ladies," and was kept in full operation to the present time. This Institution was remodeled in 1870, and additional wings were added to it. Nearly two thousand pupils have received instruction here, and its patronage extended over a wide extent of country, including all the adjoining States, and many others. Almost unvarying success attended the school in its efforts to promote the cause of education. With this brief description of the place and of its leading features, it will now fall to my lot to tell the story of the terrible damage inflicted upon it by the great tornado of July 1st.

My school had been vacated three days before, and all the pupils, together with their baggage, had gone. We felt, on that Sabbath afternoon, a full sense of relief from responsibility and care. About 3 o'clock in the afternoon, while engaged in reading, I was informed by my wife that an unusual rumbling and loud noise could be heard in the west. I remarked that it must be a thunderstorm and nothing more. The loud roar, however, continued, and became clearer and more distinct. I arose hastily, took a position and listened to the sound. In a few moments my mother-in-law, who resides with us, called to me in a loud voice to come to the west window on the main hall of the second story. I hurried thither, and on looking toward the west saw the great storm-cloud approaching, distant at that time perhaps half a mile, and coming over the level plain of the intervening fields. It was a novel and terrible sight to behold. The great conical mass seemed to be carrying along with it the timbers and burning embers of a barn on fire; vast masses of dirt and other dark objects appeared to be also in motion and coming directly towards my school buildings. No time must be lost; the whole establishment might blow away, but in any event the safest place seemed to be the basement story. Thither I asked my family to go immediately; they did so. On reaching the story immediately above the basement I halted, passed to the front porch, and took a position for observation, thinking that possibly our plans for safety would have to be modified. In a few moments the cloud struck the building; it came apparently with the force of two or three batteries of artillery, and the question was about to be decided whether the brick walls could stand the shock; if they could not, our lives must be sacrificed. It was all over in less than one minute. I had withdrawn to a front room on the first heavy fall of brick through the porch roof, for the upper story seemed to be coming down bodily upon the lower floors. After it was over I stepped to the east end of that part of the porch which was remaining, and viewed the situation; it was enough to sadden the stoutest heart. Not a solitary building without was standing; the fourth story of the Seminary was completely gone. Our new dwelling house was in course of erection and was nearly completed. Although it was a large structure, thirty-six by fifty feet, not a vestige of it remained above the cellar walls; even these were partially overthrown. My barn, carriage-house and stable, together with every other out-building, were nowhere to be seen. Such a sight was never witnessed in this part of the country. The horses were still alive, though one of them, which had been in the barn, was gasping for life more than fifty yards from the building, and was badly mutilated; the other appeared unhurt, having kept just outside of the storm track. The cow, which had been grazing in the pasture field adjoining, had been lifted up bodily by the revolving mass and was thrown over a hedge twenty feet high, and was dead--the fall having probably killed her. The three hogs upon the premises looked as though they had crawled out of the earth, for they were covered with dirt; they seemed to breathe with the greatest difficulty and one of them soon died. About fifty chickens were lying around dead. The beautiful lawn in front of the Seminary, containing thirty varieties of trees and ornamental shrubbery, was badly damaged, more than half of the trees being either twisted off or uprooted. Not a fence could be seen anywhere. I turned away from the sad and sickening scene. The storm had broken nearly everything; the ground in all directions was covered with timber and with the debris of buildings and of trees.

Some strange incidents occurred in connection with the destruction of property. Three carriages within the same building had their wheels deposited at different points of the compass, more than one hundred yards distant from the building and from each other. The spokes and axles were mostly gone. The buildings had been covered with tin, and this tin roof was found in every direction at an almost equal radius from its former location. In several instances the roofing material was interwoven with the branches of trees, and was wound around the same two or three times. A large apple tree had been carried more than one hundred yards. A chestnut tree of huge dimensions in the front lawn had been stripped of nearly all its foliage, but had not been overthrown. Over a hundred quilts and blankets from the Seminary were lodged in the neighboring forests, torn into shreds. The upper section of a pump at the new dwelling had been lifted bodily into the air and deposited without the building. The grain in the barn, used for feeding the horses, was sown by the storm over more than half an acre of ground, and asserted its presence by a new and rapid growth. Most of the evergreen trees on the lawn were broken off and the tops carried away. The apple trees in every case, however, were uprooted. The growing potatoes in one of my fields lost their green tops, the bare ground alone remaining. Five hundred dollars' worth of school furniture in the upper story of the Seminary, was carried away and entirely destroyed. An immense quantity of letters that had been stored, immediately under the roof of the building, were blown away, many of which were read by persons living ten miles distant. A hedge along the northern side of the Seminary property, nearly twenty feet high, had the appearance, after the storm, of having been overrun by an immense flood. About a hundred loads of material of every character and description, were strewn around the premises, and were gathered up after the storm. Several tons of hay that had been stored away in the barn, were blown away, and not a vestige of it could be seen anywhere. The timbers of the new dwelling were not only scattered around, but were shattered so effectually that an entire piece of lumber could with difficulty be found. Pillars of brick weighing several tons were rolled out of their places near the top of the Seminary, and were buried in the earth to a considerable depth. Some of the school books were carried away for four miles or more, and were safely deposited near the farm houses in the surrounding country.

Other incidents might be given of the effects of the storm on this property. But it is unnecessary. The damage was immense. The loss in real and personal property, and every kind of damage inflicted upon the Ercildoun Seminary property, cannot fall much below ten thousand dollars.

Let us now consider the injury done to the remaining part of the village. Cyrus Coates resides immediately to the north of the school buildings. He owns a small farm, and a very fine orchard is located on the southern side of it. The northern part of the storm track passed over a portion of his property. His barn was demolished. A good wagon house was carried away, and all his carriages and wagons went with it. The greater part of his farming utensils were either missing or destroyed. Two-thirds of his orchard, including about fifty trees, were overthrown. The fences in the track were carried away, and a large quantity of old grain that had been stored in his barn, was missing. Mr. Coates estimates his loss at over two thousand dollars. A house and barn, and a small lot of land immediately to the east of the Seminary, are owned by Elizabeth Meredith, an aged woman, who resides there most of the time in company with her grand-daughter--a little girl of eight years. With some difficulty this young girl induced her aged grand-parent to descend from her room to the lower floor, as the storm was approaching. She accomplished her purpose and the lives of both of them were thus saved. The house was a stone and frame one, one-half being built of each. The storm-cloud passed almost directly over this dwelling and completely dismantled it. The slate roof was carried off, and the upper story went with it--the eastern part of the frame structure being blown forward into the adjoining road. The barn was completely blown away, and the fences shared the same fate. Her loss, including house, barn and fences, cannot fall below eight hundred dollars.

A row of houses, owned and occupied by several families of colored people next encountered the fury of the storm. Lewis Miller, who resides at the southern extremity, sustained a loss of about one hundred dollars. James Richardson, who is next in order, had his house badly damaged, and was himself struck by missiles, and disabled for several weeks. His property was damaged to the extent of about two hundred dollars. A double building belonging to James and William Long, shared a similar fate. It was unroofed and nearly torn to pieces. Their loss will be near three hundred dollars. The last building, at the north end of the row, belongs to Wm. Harvey, a blacksmith. It encountered the full force of the northern track of the storm, and was unroofed, and fearfully injured. The shed adjoining was nowhere to be found. His whole loss was about four hundred dollars. The Fallowfield Meeting House property was now reached. A beautiful grove of trees in the western part was nearly destroyed, the trees lying in every direction. Some of the oaks were very large, but were completely twisted off by the furious blast. The sheds for the protection of horses were all overthrown, and the upper part of the grave-yard wall was blown away, roof and all. The damage sustained by this property was not less than three hundred dollars. George Walton, who owns a farm to the south of the Meeting House, sustained some loss in the destruction of a portion of his oats crop, and of his fences. He estimates the damage inflicted upon him at near three hundred dollars. Another property located on the south side of the road, passing through the place from east to west, was that of Priscilla Walton. Her buildings were untouched, but nearly every tree of a thriving young apple orchard on the premises, was destroyed beyond reparation. Her fences in the track of the storm were overthrown, and her loss cannot fall short of three hundred dollars. On leaving the village the tempest of wind made a complete wreck of all the buildings on the property of Jacob Carter, a colored man residing thereon. He was absent from home at the time of the storm, and on returning found that his new house, erected of gravel and cement, was nowhere to be seen. He loses by the storm about seven hundred dollars. We now leave the village of Ercildoun, the damage to which I have enumerated with considerable care. We are also reaching a point at which the storm-cloud arose to a higher elevation, and passed above the farms and buildings, extending from Susan Pierce's property to a point near Broad Run, one mile west of Marshallton. Mrs. Pierce was also a loser by the tornado. The east gable end of her barn, and also part of one side, though built of stone, fell to the ground when the cloud struck it. Her loss, including fences and growing crops, amounts to about two hundred dollars.

We now find that the storm-cloud passes to a higher elevation, or disappears, and for eight miles no buildings are touched. It descended in a modified form near Broad Run, and overturned and destroyed the barn of Richard Bailey, and leveled his fruit trees, inflicting a damage of about twelve hundred dollars. Only one more property was encountered. The buildings of Jos. Marshall to the north of the Strasburg road, were struck. His barn was destroyed and a portion of his house was demolished. He sustained a loss of near eighteen hundred dollars.

The end of the track of desolation is now reached. The storm is at an end. The cloud has disappeared, and the story is nearly finished. The loss of property sustained by the persons living along the route of the storm-cloud is put in tabular form at the end of this work. It amounts to over thirty-five thousand dollars.

Edwin Walton, of Highland township, who had a good lateral view of the movement and appearance of the tornado, gives the following account of it:

As the cyclone or tornado is a phenomenon of such rare occurrence in this part of the country, and having an excellent opportunity of witnessing the one which commenced in the eastern border of Lancaster county, and passed through portions of Sadsbury, Highland, and East Fallowfield townships, in Chester County, Pennsylvania, on the afternoon of July 1st, 1877, I will endeavor to give as correct a description of it as possible, as it appeared to me. About two o'clock on the afternoon above mentioned, after arousing from a nap, I observed that clouds were gathering and distant thunder was muttering to the north-west. The day was warm, the thermometer indicating a temperature of about 90 deg. Fahrenheit, though no heated term (as it is sometimes called) had been experienced; the weather for several days previous having been rather cool and moist for the season. A strong wind was blowing from the south-west, producing (as I have been accustomed to term it) an active condition of the atmosphere, when storms quickly gather, move rapidly, and are apt to be severe, though not of long duration.

I walked out into one of the fields and occupied an elevated position that afforded a good opportunity of witnessing what was, unexpectedly, soon to take place. I had been there from a half to three-quarters of an hour, when the gust, which had been gathering to the north-west presented a threatening appearance, a heavy rain apparently passing round to the northward. Suddenly, a dark cloud made its appearance to the south-west, forming rapidly from the atmosphere, and moving with the lower current of air, to the northward. As soon as it reached the vicinity of the gust, the usual play of electricity commenced, which is frequently observed when clouds of unequal temperature meet. My attention was soon directed to a constant roaring or boiling noise that suddenly commenced at a point in the heavens to the north-west of me, and near the western extremity of the two clouds, a noise not quite resembling thunder, which, however, I supposed it to be, and said to myself, "can it be that the main body of the storm is in that direction when it looks so much darker and more threatening farther to the north?" for the clouds in the immediate vicinity of the noise were of a light appearance. The constant roaring, however, continued for probably five to eight minutes, when I first observed in the direction whence it proceeded, a dark cloud of smoky appearance rising from the earth and whirling in a terrible manner, with streams of lightning darting in quick succession from different directions into it, and a whitish, funnel-shaped cloud suspended over it. I was considerably startled, remarked that a cyclone was coming, halted a moment to ascertain the direction in which it was traveling, which appeared to be towards me, and started in haste to the house. I soon found that it would pass a little to the north, and would not strike us, though the air was thick with objects nearly overhead, many of which, to an observer at a considerable distance, closely resembled buzzards sailing round. I immediately took my stand on the upper porch at the east end of the house, when an almost uninterrupted view could be had all the way to the village of Ercildoun, and here the grandest and most terrible sight that I ever beheld, suddenly burst into view, as the tornado passed from behind the hill north of the house, and crossed the narrow-wooded valley near Brinton's Mill, on the road leading to Coatesville. This spot was heavily set with white-oak timber of good growth, but the moment it was struck by the whirlwind, the sturdy oaks, which had been standing for probably a century, were instantly thrown to the ground, many of them raising tons of earth and stones upon their roots, while others, not willing to leave the soil that had nourished them so long, were broken off at different heights and scattered around in confusion, or carried up in the winding funnel to be dashed from the earth far from where they grew. It is needless to attempt a description of the power exerted by the storm at this point, as many visitors who have been there declare that no description they had of it previously, conveyed any clear idea of the reality, and the mind is utterly powerless to conceive how any force can be generated to move an element so light and soft as the atmosphere we breathe, with such tremendous velocity as that required to produce the effect seen here, and many other places along its line of travel. As it passed from this valley over the hill, in the direction of Ercildoun, at a distance of about three-eights of a mile from where I stood, I could distinctly see the branches of trees flying rapidly as they were thrown off by the centrifugal force of the whirl, the center being so densely filled with dust, leaves, etc., and the motion so rapid, that in it nothing could be recognized. It now moved across a cornfield but lately cultivated, belonging to Joseph Brinton, and here the most terrible-looking sight yet beheld presented itself, for the astonishing quantities of dust rolling upward, together with the dreadful roaring, and the sun almost shining, presented the appearance of a great moving fire, and such many supposed it to be. Our nearest neighbors left their house terror-stricken, and came towards ours, believing, the world was on fire and the Judgment Day had surely come, a belief maintained by others as well as by them, while the horses ran as far as they could get from the frightful object.

It could now be distinctly seen that Ercildoun lay directly in its pathway, and I was almost horrified to think of such a destructive power moving through a village, for it seemed to a beholder as though no structure erected by human hands could, for a moment, stand before it, and it seems marvellous, considering the destruction done at this place, that not a single human life was lost, and only one in its whole line of about 20 miles travel. The new dwelling house being erected by Richard Darlington, was about the first in the vicinity to share the fate of destruction, and the moment it was struck the timbers could be seen flying high in the air and scattering in all directions. The next instant the school building was obscured from view, but in a moment reappeared again, showing it to be on the outside of the center, and not in the full force of the storm.

After passing through the town and completely destroying many of the buildings, the cone or funnel, which had accompanied the Tornado like a dreaded omen, disappeared, showing that the whirling motion of the air had ceased, and the storm for the time being was spent. The rotary movement was to the left, which may be shown by standing upon one heel and turning around in that direction. This was evident from the fact that being on the south side, objects flying off from the center were thrown forward, while to a beholder on the north side, as the storm moved eastward, they were thrown backward. The cone appeared to be a cloud of vapor, nearly white, connecting at the base or upper end with a smooth surface of cloud somewhat darker, and tapering in a slightly concave manner for about two-thirds of its whole length, terminating in a tail of nearly equal thickness, about one-third of the whole length and at a height varying, probably, from 100 to 200 feet from the ground. The upper portion of the cone appeared to move nearly in a straight line, and at a uniform rate of speed, while the tail or lower end was frequently seen to bend considerably in different directions, showing that the storm was somewhat swayed from its true course in passing around the hills or crossing valleys at oblique angles, a fact verified by observation. Sometimes it would seem to stop entirely for a few minutes, and then move on faster than before, and was quite as destructive on low ground and in narrow valleys as elsewhere. The appearance of fire frequently spoken of, especially by those toward whom the storm was approaching, I am satisfied was produced by the sunlight against the constantly rising dust, the light being partly transmitted and partly reflected. No rain fell in the track of the storm, but hail stones of large size and in considerably quantity fell in some localities on the north side of it.

One remarkable feature observed by those near its passage, was the difference between the wind then blowing and that of ordinary winds, the tornado acting with a drawing or sucking force, trees and other objects seemed to give way more readily than if acted upon by the pushing force of the wind behind them. The size of the central portion, or that in which the power of the storm seemed to be generated, did not appear to be more than 50 to 75 feet in width. One person towards whom it was approaching, and but a short distance off, thought it about the size of a large balloon, though trees, buildings, and other objects, were prostrated for the width of 150 to 300 feet.

The tornado of July 1st has assumed so much importance because of its novelty, and of the scientific points involved in its movements, that its history would be incomplete without some reference to the events which followed it, and which had direct connection with it. The suffering among the poorer classes in the village of Ercildoun was of so decided a character, that a meeting was organized and a committee of relief was appointed, composed of the following persons, viz: Abraham Gibbons, Margaretta Walton, R. B. Ramsey, David Young, William Webster, Charles Huston, Jr., and B. Fredd. This committee undertook the task of raising a sum of money to repair and rebuild the houses of those unable of themselves to do so. After considerable effort, in which the people of the borough of Coatesville, and also of West Chester and other places, made generous contributions, the sum of nearly two thousand dollars was raised for that purpose. This amount of money was generously distributed among the sufferers in sums varying from one to four hundred dollars, and most of the dwellings of the class referred to have been repaired, or are in course of erection, and erelong the desolate appearance of the place will not exist, and these people will be placed in a position as favorable as they were in before the storm. No relief has been rendered to any of the sufferers from Insurance Companies, or from any public corporation.

After the storm had passed through the village of Ercildoun on that Sabbath afternoon, a tide of visitors set in, entirely unprecedented in this part of the country. The sun shone out beautifully; a terrible scene of desolation was spread out in every direction, buildings on every hand having been either blown away or overthrown; fences nowhere; the grass apparently parched and destroyed; trees filling all the roads and pathways; the debris of dwellings spread over all the fields; animals gasping for breath or dying; crops shorn to a level with the ground, and human beings running in every direction. Before evening had come, upwards of a thousand people were gazing with astonishment at the scene; carriages and vehicles of all descriptions were to be seen. On the following day, in fact, during the whole of the next three weeks, the number of visitors did not seem to diminish. On July 8th, the Sabbath after the storm, it is estimated that the number was swelled to five thousand. All the roads leading to Ercildoun were absolutely obstructed with vehicles. Reporters for the press, artists for the illustrated papers, and photographers, were busily attending to their duties. Some of these visitors came in the interest of science, others to extend sympathy and aid to the sufferers, but the great mass of them came with no such purpose. They gazed upon the scene as they would upon a great natural curiosity, and gave the subject little profound thought. They regarded it as a grand "show," and were certainly well repaid for their many miles of travel thither. The citizens of the village kept watch for a few days to prevent pilfering, but were not entirely successful, as many valuables were stolen.

It is estimated that about fifteen thousand people visited the ruins in and around Ercildoun. The damage done to the Seminary property at Ercildoun--amounting to one-fourth of the injury along the whole track of the storm--was so great, and the general outlook upon the lawn--in which most of the trees were either overthrown, broken off, or otherwise injured--was of so unfavorable a character, that it was deemed best by the proprietor to change its location. He purchased a valuable property containing twenty-six acres of land and very fine improvements, in the vicinity of the borough of West Chester, twelve miles east of its former location. Additional buildings of the most approved character were erected thereon, and its capacity for a Young Ladies' Seminary or Boarding School, is greater than it was at Ercildoun, and it is believed that some advantages of a decided character will accrue to it in consequence of it being more easy of access, and of its close proximity to one of the most beautiful towns in the State of Pennsylvania.

The story of the great storm seems now to be fully told. It is one of the phenomena of the century. It has no rival or parallel in this latitude. Its track was extremely narrow, not more than two hundred yards in width, yet it destroyed nearly forty thousand dollars worth of property, principally in buildings. We may never see the like again, but those of us that endured its terrors and suffered its losses, will never forget it. The storm-cloud, in its long journey of twenty-two miles, killed but one person and severely injured three others, but it imperiled the lives of several hundred, who are justly thankful for their narrow escape from death. We have not been accustomed to fear much the thunder, the lightning and the storms of heaven. That calm Sabbath July afternoon has, however, reminded us that a passing cloud may be lashed into the wildest fury and deal out death and destruction on every hand. Whilst we cannot foolishly regard this storm as a dispensation of Providence, as some have said, but rather the wild fury of the elements, acting according to fixed laws, we are, nevertheless, impressed with the dangers to human life on every hand, and with the power of God as he carries out his laws, irrespective of man's wishes or expectations.

ESTIMATED LOSS FROM THE TORNADO.

Jos. D. Pownell, $ 300 00 Elwood Pownell, 200 00 Robert Johnston, 200 00 Thos. Bonsall, Jr., 300 00 Building Association of W. C., 200 00 Frank Paxson, 2000 00 Madison Irvin, 100 00 Wayne Woodland, 1500 00 Robert Bradford, 50 00 William Cephas, 100 00 Henry Miller, 50 00 Michael McGuigan, 50 00 John Murphy, 50 00 Ezekiel Young, 2000 00 Geo. Paxson, 1200 00 Mrs. Fulton, 800 00 Chas. Hennings, 100 00 Vincent Rice, 200 00 Samuel Jackson, 2000 00 Dr. Murphy, 600 00 Penn'a & Del. R. R., 600 00 William Hamill, 700 00 Joseph Brinton, 2500 00 Elisha Phipps, 1000 00 Thomas Shields, 1200 00 Richard Darlington, Jr., 9500 00 Cyrus Coates, 2200 00 Elizabeth Meredith, 800 00 Lewis Miller, 100 00 Junius Richardson, 200 00 Jas. & Wm. Long, 300 00 William Harvey, 400 00 Fallowfield Meeting House, 300 00 Geo. Walton, 200 00 Priscilla Walton, 300 00 Jacob Carter, 700 00 Susan Pierce, 200 00 Richard Bailey, 1200 00 Joseph Marshall, 1600 00 --------- $36000 00