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The Great Flood of 1876

[Note: This article was transcribed exactly as it was written. No changes to spelling or punctuation has been made.]

Dubuque Daily Times

Dubuque, Iowa

Thursday Morning July 5, 1876

DEATH

FORTY PERSONS KILLED IN DUBUQUE AND VICINITY

ROCKDALE BLOTTED UTTERLY OUT OF EXISTENCE

BUT ONE BUILDING AND LESS THAN A DOZEN PERSONS LEFT,

AND THOSE WHO ARE LEFT ARE MOSTLY ORPHAN CHILDREN

DUBUQUE CITY WRECKED BY A CENTENNIAL STORM

WOMEN RESCUED FROM SECOND-STORY WINDOWS

– CHILDREN DROWNED IN THEIR CRADLES

A MIDNIGHT SCENE OF DEATH, DESOLATION AND INDESCRIBABLE HORROR

DESTRUCTIVE EFFECTS OF THE STORM ELSEWHERE

The Centennial will long be remembered in Dubuque, not for the magnificence of the daytime display, but for the dark tragic history of the night. The day was combatively pleasant, but coming on evening suspicious electricity laden clouds began to fleck the north western heaven, which gathered with mumbling and grumbling which was continued until after ten o’clock when the rain commenced to descend, apparently increasing in quantity with the passing hours. Darkness took possession of the earth so deep so immensurable that it seemed as if curtain of blackness was spread across the face of nature. Nothing could be seen save when bright flashes of lightning blazed over the sky, and for an instant dispelled the darkness which appeared only the more intense when it again hellsway. The thunders railed almost incessantly sad peal after peal seemed to leap from hilltop to hilltop or roll away on the hill sides shaking the earth as they passed as if nature was in her death throes. It is said that there is something terrifically grand in the flash of the glaring lightning and the peal of thunder, but in the storm of last Tuesday night there was that which inspired the heart with awe and sent a feeling of uneasiness through the soul of those who are not given to fear. The earth trembled like an aspen a bolt following bolt and belt of heavenly flame succeeded belt, as if to light the waters tumbling from the heavens an mass on their kind of destruction. The hills quivered and the most firmly seated houses trembled upon one might well remember historic accounts of cities deluged and the houses of men laid waste and leveled to the earth by the irresistible hand of an unseen power. At or about ten o’clock the rain began, and by eleven it poured streams from the overburdened clouds, and thus it continued for hours, with no intermission. When day dawned a bright sun burst, but how black, how fearful, how rending was the picture that it raised upon. Dissolution was spread broad cast everywhere as if some avenging hand had swept with insatiable thirst and far reaching scourge. Throughout the city and in all this vicinity there are many monuments of the dreadful power of the storm king but nowhere is that power so terribly so painfully so shockingly demonstrated as at ROCKDALE.

ROCKDALE

Here just on the confines of the city, tow miles distant was the little village known to every resident of Dubuque. Here stood eight houses–a blacksmith shop, and the Rockdale Mills. On Centennial day the little village stood there the home to happy fathers and mothers the birth place of their children. Ere the day dawned again these homes were swept away as if with a besom of destruction and instead of the little village in which so many happy hearts welcomed Centennial day, nothing was left but the heart piercing wreck of what had been

ROCKDALE IN RUINS

Every building in the little town, save the Catfish Mill, was washed from its foundation and torn into wreck that quite defies description. The dozen buildings all that were located on the bottom lands of the Catfish, save the Mill were carried out as it they were so many cockle-shells and whirled as own the surging and boiling current crushing them into fragments. With two exceptions all are torn into splinters and scarcely a fragment can be recognized as belonging to this or that building–all are indistinguishable ruin scattered for a mile along the borders of the stream. Stores shops dwellings barns everything fell before the terrible torrent that came rolling in great surges down the ten miles of valley through which the Catfish runs. Where eighteen hours ago was a quiet and unsuspecting and happy little rural hamlet, is now only a waste of waters timbers the wreck of buildings of households merchandise mud and uprooted trees. For a full mile down the stream these fragments are strewn along the banks or piled in gorges from a few feet to twenty feet high.

DEATH DEATH DEATH

But the worst is not told. Thirty-nine human beings were hurriedly swept from life into the great maelstrom of death. Men, women, children to that number were drowned and their stiff bodies those of the thirty that have been rescued up to this hour were ranged side by side along the shady side of the mill awaiting the last sad funeral rites. In one instance we saw an entire family of four all lying dead. In another every member of the family but one lay dead . The bodies of some were found in the dearies of the crushed buildings, near the scene of their death while others and the greater part of them all were found along the banks from a few rods, to a mile down the stream. Some were almost entirely hid from view by the floods or mud laden waters with perhaps a hand only exposed to sight or a foot or a portion of the face or perhaps only a portion of their clothing. A large number of little children, boy and girls ranging from 3 to 12 years old, comprise this dread holocaust, and all together the scene was a most

Particular of the Calamity
 

Through the day the people of the village had jollied more or less in the festivities of the Centennial Fourth. In the evening the rain began to fall, and all took shelter in their houses or at the stores or saloon. At about half an hour after midnight the Catfish was discovered to have become so swollen as that the streets were gone and flowing and escape to the surrounding highlands cut off. Higher and higher rose the rushing waters while the storm kept mercissley on. Down roared the surging water in great waves several feet high and soon the smaller buildings were swept away. About 1 a portion of the dam gave way, and this followed by a crash of the railroad bridge , the fragments of which went tearing down, striking the hotel and Horn’s Store. Both of these were capsized, the former being torn in pieces, and the latter swung against the last tree standing but a few feet away against which if lodged resting upon its side. Now the stream had grown to two thousand feet wide and full twenty feet deep. As the buildings were swept into wreck, the inmates were hurled into the surging current, their voices crying out for help amidst the roar of thunder and storm crashes, while lurid lighting up the dreadful scene for an instant, leaving it blacker than before.

All who are familiar with the location of the village will remember that the stream on which the dam is built is turned from a direction by the dam and makes a channel running westward as it goes southward, forming a bend as it winds its way around to the rock bridge which spans the wagon road and pursers its course backward of the village. At an ordinary stage of water I was content to keep this winding indirect route, but when swollen to madness it rushed headlong and spurning the barriers which had been thrown up to confine it to the given course. It leaped over the corner of the dam and tumbled solid masonry yard after yard, rod after rod, in a confused mass out of the way just as if they were piled bricks. Stones weighing tons tied together with cement and braced in their position by solid banks of clay overlaid with a cap work of time fixed macadamizing all these were lifted and driven before the enraged water it even picked up a long string of railroad iron which it had wrenched from it spiked ties and stretched it for distance of perhaps fifty yards down the torrent path where it now lie a strange witness of the wonderful power of unrestrained water. Across the corner of the dam next to the mill the water launched itself and in the inconceivably short space of time had made an outlet for itself across the street neat the corner of the mill a deep wide terrible looking track, over which the agent of destruction ran rampant in the darkness, and through which for the greater part of the day yesterday it fretted and foamed and lashed itself against the huge rocks that had been washed in during the night before. Here was one foaming seething boiling inducted barrier to cut off the escape on the south side of the village while to the north the waters that would not find an outlet by the new passage tumbled down and piled themselves up until they raised themselves above the approach to the bridge which spans the road as the village is approached from city.

Even this alarming condition of things existed before the storm had yet attained its great fury.
The waters swelled gradually for a while then after the midnight hour had passed, and when the lightening flashed and the thunders shook the earth as if some subterranean influence was striving to rend it when the blackness of the heavens was not more black than the despair which seized upon the doomed of that little village the final burst of wrath came A rumbling warning mysterious sound was heard
 

Wave after wave of water many feet high came in succession like with the weight of molten iron and the erectness of wall, and house after house went whirling and spinning and tumbling and crashing on the mad avalanches of water, which tossed them like things of air onward and downward. The first building that yielded was the Rockdale house, a two story frame tavern, kept by CW. Kingsley. The building stood 60 x 40 feet with additions extending at the rear of the building. This stood nearest to the stream on the west side of the road. The water rapidly raised until the lower story , which stood some two or three feet above the street was invaded and then one fearful bulk torrent rushed at the railroad bridge, lifted it from its abatements twisted it and hurled it onward. Leaving a passage for the sea like bubbles to dash against the corner of the tavern. Almost instantly it was wrenched from its foundation and darted at fuses street driven down-town and tossed by torrent until it was shattered to pieces and went down the current in fragments. And there was human freight consisting of Mr. Kingsley and wife Peter Knapp and his wife and seven children were committed to the merciless water–how merciless a husband he befit os his wife and those bright little boys left orphans almost instant at best can feel. Mr. Kingsley and his wife and Mr. Kapp and his family hoped of safety from it Mrs. Kingsley and Mr. Kapp and his wife and four children entered eternity.

Joining the tavern stood the residence of Mr.. Kapp the front part was used for a meat shop by Peter Becker. This too was lifted from its foundation but not carried away. It is the only one of all the houses which stood upon the doomed ground in which safety might have been found, but Mr. Kapp becoming alarmed and deeming the tavern safest, deserted it with his family of seven children for the tavern, thus flying with his wife and lovely family from possible salvation to certain death.
 

Joining Mr. Kapp’s house was Thos. Benkiron’s store and dwelling. This appears to have been struck by a mountain of water, which uprooted it and laid it over on its side as completely as if it had been lifted into the heavens and turned and dropped sideways.
 

Next to Blenkiron’s stood the Coates’ Blacksmith shop, which was totally swept away.

On the opposite side of street was Mr.. Carey’s two story frame saloon and dwelling. This was wrenched from its rock foundation and hurled down-stream with four inmates, Mrs.. Carey and her three children who sank beneath the foaming water, Mr. Carey having escaped by taking refuge in a tree.

Then Peter Becker’s house followed in the vortex and went down, with Mr.. Becker, his five children and Mrs. Lucy A Bowers, his house keeper and her two little girls Minnie and Lizzie.
 

Adjoining this was the dwelling and saloon of Joseph Becker, brother of Peter which was toppled over burring with it as it fell under the swallowing water the bodies of eleven human beings. Mr. Becker, his wife and six children, Mr.. Pearce, his wife and two daughters, who were on their way to their home not far distant, but stopped for shelter from the storm and Wm Bradberry.
 

The last morsel that was left for the hungry flood, among all the houses that stood there was the store of Mr. G Horn, which swayed for awhile in the surging water and then went down with a crash careening sideways and crushing down until its roof was nearly a level with the water. Such picture of desolation cannot be conceived without seeing it.
A short distance below these houses stood that of John Klassen, the mill cooper, who with his wife and five of his six children were buried to death while their home went to destruction. The barn of the tavern a large building was tossed up into the street neat the bridge at the north side of the village, and the barn of the Mill Company in size 60 x 30 feet, with sheds and corn cribs located a distance over five hundred yards from the stream was torn to atoms and much of it piled up against the railroad track near where the bridge stood. This was the scene of detestation presented by the destruction of buildings. Startling enough to contemplate but it dwindles into insignificance when the number of the human victims of the flood are thought of and this is.

THE SAD RECORD

Joseph Becker, his wife Ellen and two children; James Pearce Emma his wife, and two daughters; Peter Becker and five children, and Mrs. Bowers his housekeeper, and her two daughters, Minnie and Lizzie; Mrs. Carey and three children; John Klassen his wife and five children; Peter Kapp his wife and four children, Mrs. Kingsley, Thos. Blenkiron, Oliver Blenkiron, Wm Bradbury and Richard Burk.

There is the sad record in human life for less than one hour on that fearful night. Thirty nine victims–Fathers Mothers, boys and girls at the door of man and woman hood and sweet faced innocent little things whose feet had touched the path of sin, all buried under the same death sheet the turbid water. Of these thirty nine, thirty one had been recovered up to six o’clock last evening. The cruel waters still hiding the faces of the other eight.
 

BODIES RECOVERED
 

Oliver Blenkiron, Christy Klassen, Peter Kapp, Matthew Kapp, Joseph Kapp, Wm Bradberry, John Klassen, James Pearce, Frank Casey, Joseph Becker, Henry Becker, Albert Becker, Henry Becker, son of Peter Becker, Thos. Blenkiron, Mrs. Carey, Elizabeth Carey, Jennie Carey, Mrs.. Pearce, Ida Pierce, Mrs. Joseph A Becker, Abby, daughter of Peter Becker, Mrs. Kapp, Mrs. Kingsley, Maggie Klassen, Mary Klassen, Mrs. Lucy A Bowers, Mrs. Kapps little daughter and Mrs. Klassen.

There is the holocaust hat death claimed, and the waters gave up and no pen is equal to the task of describing the sickening heart touching sight that is present itself as they were drawn one by one from the water Here one was drawn from the seething water there another was found nearly hidden under the black soil. Here a father was drawn forth there a tender little son with little eyes closed in death; here a mother and there the little darling that perhaps she clasp to her bosom or kissed goodnight but a few hours before. All along the bank for a distance of a mile they were found. On an island below the railroad bridge, which seemed to throw out arms of mercy, a number were stopped and held until the hands of charitable men could take them from the terrible water and restore them to friends if they had them or not to the bosom of earth. From the house of Joseph Becker eleven bodies were taken men, women, and children, a heart rendering sight to look upon. As the bodies were recovered, one by one they were carried into the mill where acting under instructions of Mr. Coates , Chairman of the Board, Mr. John Carson, assisted by Richard Windsor, E.O. Duncan, Biaseil Case, Asa Davis, John Deggendorf, G.H. Stevens, J. Barron, took charge of the male portion of the dead, washed them and laid them aside to be claimed by friends or prepared for the coffin. Here they accumulated until the number fourteen. The father laid beside his little boy and one father was there whose family were perhaps in ignorance of the fact that he lost was to them forever. It was enough to melt a heart of iron to look upon that floor clad with dead bodies–to see one man with a sub on each side of him, and another with a sweet faced little boy, who smiled in death at his very arm, as he often was in life. Oh such a picture reaches how often hearts may suffer when they gazed upon it and also teaches how much those who bare escape who have never known the terrible visitation of a sudden death among those they love.

The females were brought as they were found to a carpenter shop on the south side of the mill were they were washed by noble hearted women and then brought into a neighboring house all save the family of Mrs. Klassen who were placed in the house of his cousins Mr. Mosh where they were laid side by side the father mother, one son 18 years of age, and three daughters the youngest of whom was five years of age, a round faced sweet little angle. One glance at which was enough to bring tears to the eye. One of the children a daughter aged 16 years old has yet tone found and only one saved of the whole family was the little five year old boy who floated on a board down the creek over a mile passing safely through the railroad bridge, on which houses had been dashed to pieces, on the frail plank in the morning. The son, aged 18 whose body was recovered was badly cut on the face and forehead, and crushed on the back of the head as id he had been jammed between the timbers many times and may have met his death. It is not possible to portray the sight presented by that dead family the father mother and children side by side close together in death as they were said to be in life.
To the next house were eleven more women and children all of whom left some aching heart behind them. A sad site for anyone to look upon.

In the afternoon the Corner complied with the forms of laws in holding an inquest, having summoned Thomas W Johnston, Francis Coates, and Abram S Bunting as a jury. After hearing the statement of a couple of witnesses, they returned a verdict of accidental drowning. When the friends of some of the parties were permitted to take their dead away. For the purpose of getting as full a history of the calamity as possible we conversed with several who were painful witnesses to it.
 

Mr. Gustav Horn

He stated that he his wife and four children went to bed about 11 o’clock after friends who were visiting him had gone home. The hard rain caused him to getup and go down stairs to look after his goods. He started to go to the house in the yard in which he kept his stock of powder for the purpose of saving it, but discovered that it was surrounded with water, which was rapidly rising He had just time to throw one sack of coffee on the counter, when he went up stairs. He saw a breast of water after that which rushed towards the house and called to his wife to get up. Heard Charles Theimmesch rapping on his roof asking for him to let him in the window. He told him it was not safe then he placed his wife and four children in the collar braces of the rafters and presently heard the house settle down and fall over into the water while the roof almost flattened at one end. He got his wife and children to the window of the side which was now nearly on top and so that they hung until an hour after sunrise when Wm McCarty and Martin Carey helped him and his family out. There they had been for long hours while death ruled with iron hand around them. There escape was almost miraculous.

CHAS T HEMMBSCH

He was the barkeep for W.J.Becker. He heard the roar of the waters and felt that there was danger kept cool and tried to calm the children and others in the house. He went to the front window saw that the tavern was swept away and then felt the house in which he was starting off. He divested himself of his clothing expecting to have to swim for his life jumped upon his joining roof climbed on that to Horn’s and where this was about to topple sprang into the seething flood and struck out for the shore which he reached safely but badly bruised on his breast by striking something while in the water. While he was springing through the window Mrs. Becker attempted to hold him lest he should be lost. Pour thing she sank.

Mrs. Kingsley

The proprietor of the tavern, was alarmed by the fearful noise which he could not comprehend He went to the door to look out but the water rushed in unto the floor. He told his wife to come up stairs and presently, Mr. Rapp and his family who fled from their own home come up. By the flashes of lightning he saw Peter Becker and Martin Carey’s homes go and saw the water raise over the rail bridge He got the women out of the bedroom and then into a larger room at the back of the building thinking they would not hear the storm so plainly and would be less frightened, saw the bridge go and felt it strike his house and drive it onward. He felt that the crisis had some and told his wife to get ready and he would assist her. They all reached for the same window and caught hold of each other. He got out through the window onto the roof, took hold of his wives hand for the purpose of helping her when the house careened and a wave washed him off. In falling he broke his wives arm He succeeded in getting into a tree and was saved. His wife, Mr. Kapp and his wife and four children who were in the house were lost His wife was found and her are was found to be broken.

Johnny Rapp

One of the little boys who was saved out of the Kingsley home says when the house went to pieces he got on a piece of the roof. His brother aged 11 was in the stream swimming with his brother aged 5 they got to a piece of roof on which the elder brother pulled the younger by the hair. They floated against the trees neat together and the brave little fellow who had swam with his little brother pushed him into a tree and held him in his arms until morning. Then the innocent little one, who appeared out to know his danger got cold and began to cry, and when the water had fallen the older one got down and lifted the little darling with the tenderness upon a piece of roof, where they stayed until help came to them in the morning. The little boys are brave ones. And that little brother when fifteen feet of water screamed its wild death yell into his ear n mockery of the shrieks of despair heard on all sides has a soul in him that is a jewel That boy should not be friendless they have an uncle in Chicago one in Chickasaw County and a grandfather and grandmother near Rockdale.

Thomas Coates

Was sitting up in bed, he thinks about 2 says Matt Mosh ran up to call him telling him that all Rockdale was swept away. He hurried over and met Theimmesch but could not afford any relief He could but listen to the wail of the terrified and the crash of houses without the ability to lend a helping hand We have received statements from Mr. Mosh, cousin of Mr. Klassen the packer in the mill which also gives a gloomy account of the outlook. He rushed down to save the flour in the mill basement which was flooded and soon heard the crash of houses going down with the flood and carrying death with hem. Mr. C.J. Catfall also reached the scene but was not able to help those in the houses. He and Mr. Wm McCarty rescued the three Kapp boys and took them to his house where they were provided with dry clothing and food.

The damage done to property is estimated as follows: Horn’s house destroyed $6,000, Horn’s stock of Goods $10,000; Bienkiron’s stock of goods $2,000; J Beckers place, $3,000; Klassen’s Place $1,000; Carey’s house $1,000; Hotel $2,500; Bienkirons house and Kapps Residence $2,000; F Coates black smith shop $1,000; Mid barn and carriage to barn and race $3,000.

It is said that $60,000 total will not more than equal the value of the property destroyed. The damage to the railroad bridge and the destruction of the road bed over half a mile below the lower bridge could not even be guessed at It will be the work of perhaps weeks to right it.
 

Some idea of the volume of water that rushed down may be known from the fact that pates of house roof were piled up on the rail road bridge Below for a mile and a half that the bank was lined the wrecked part of houses a picture of desolation and waste not often seen anywhere. Dollars and cents will repair all that but they cannot bring back the thirty nine lives that were lost.
 

Messes. Coates , Kistler and Sullivan were on the ground all day long doing all they could to help in the recovery of the bodies, they provided domestic and other essential and will take charge of the friendless dead. Mayor Burch went out in the morning with his own force of men and put them to work with instructions to stay while they could be of assistance. About a dozen skiffs were brought from town and a number of axes and in the day a force of nearly fifty men charitable hearts and willing hands were searching the ruins of houses the water the mud the brush and every spot that gave them a hope that a lost one might be found. It would afford is Nobel men and women who searched and toiled all day as ministering angles to those who were helpless but we should have to name too many.

The Odd Fellows comities were there from different lodges to look after lost members, of whom there were some.
 

Today the search will be continued and it is to be hoped that the remaining eight maybe found.
And today many of those who have been found will be laid away under the earth less cruel that the water which snatched them in a Moment from life.

The time of the sad occurrence is placed between 1 and 2 o’clock, and Mr. Kingsley who appeared to have ben a good witness of the whole affair, says that not more than thirty minutes of time elapsed from the taking of the first house until the last one was gone. Such a complete ruin, in such a brief time, was never before seen. The ravenous storm took all there was to take and that the loss of life terrible as it was not greater is simply because there was no more houses to be swallowed. Among all those who lived there but a few survive to tell the horrid story. Mr. Kingsley, Martin Cary, Lambert Hinkel and John Marker were saved by catching on trees where they stayed until daylight. The little Rapp boys owe their preservation to their piece of passing roof and a tree, and the little 5 year old sole survivor of the Klassen family passed through the wildest surrounding of death in the mad current where it doesn’t seem possible for a human being to survive, and was saved by a plank. Such are the strange happenings at such a time. The strong father is swept to death in the house, sad and the tender little boy is saved on plank in the howling foam flecked water. Mr. Pierce and his family were on the way home from town, where they had been during the daytime celebration and delayed at Mr. Beckers for the storm to pass over. It never passed over them. Within ear shot of their own home they met death. In the morning it was feared that Mrs. Bienkiron and her sister had been lost, but fortunately they had left their doomed house while there was yet time. Her husband gave her the books of the store and told he to fo to her mothers on Grandview Avenue as fast as she would. She and her sister went waiting thought he water to their knees for some distance. Her husband singularly enough remained and was lost. When found, he was a short distance below the mill holding tightly to the limb of a branch. He had abandoned his store when he sent his wife might he be saved.

All is fearful and contemplate the loss of property in various shapes is fearful, bit nothing in comparison with the loss of life. This is the third time the dam has been swept away, once in 1852, in 1857, and now. In 1857 two lives were lost . It is not likely the village will ever be rebuilt ,for this is too dreadful an experiment to be forgotten. The area that is drained by the creek that pours its floods over the Catfish dam is of many miles and gathers quanties of water vast enough to be terrible when they are let loose. It will be a long while before this will be forgotten and it will be a long while before the thousands of people who visited that scene of desolation will forget the ruined houses, destroyed stocks of goods, dead men, women and children upon whom they looked.

God grant no one may ever look upon the like again. And God be merciful to the very few who are left to morn the many who went beneath the water yesterday and go beneath the earth today.
 

Seventeenth Street

When we come to speak of the upper end of the city, the first thing one naturally speaks of is ill starred Seventeenth street which was gullied and gouged to such an extent that all former damage there seems not worth mentioning in comparison. It is barely possible to cross it with a horse and buggy coming from Madison on to Main there being on the lower side a hole three feet deep reaching the middle of main street . The sidewalk in front of S Roots residence is somewhat torn up, and the street maze so, H.T. Woodman’s yard is infringed upon at corner and half the steps leading from the yard to the street were torn away while below is left a basin of eight or ten feet. But it is in front of the Seminary that the worst ruin is wrought. Of the stone wall in front of the Seminary is not a trace left. Instead thereof is a great gulf up to the foundation wall of the blue church a chasm reaches to within ten feet of the Seminary wall and the face of the precipice is perpendicular for twenty feet, after that sloping somewhat is the bottom and the bottom is fifteen feet below where the surface of Seventeenth Street was when it was a street.

Of the stone work that had been started on Seventeenth Street as a foundation for improvement of course not a trace is left nor even the ground upon which it was laid for may a foot deep. It looks as if the Seminary itself would some down with another storm half as sever as the last. Great gullies extend for rods into the lots on the south side of the street, in some cases six-eight and ten feet deep.

Fortunately the foundation of the blue church is no cut under any farther than it was below the Seminary is gullied so as to be impassable by teams of horses. And the sidewalks and steps leading from it to Seventeenth remained extended into vacant air. Twenty feet above the chasm below for a awhile and then fell. The house occupied by Mrs. McKay, southwest corner of Main and Clay is there, but none of its four corners are on a level with any others, and the water sand and floating filth swept through at a ruinous rate The same with the little store occupied by Mrs. Probst, who by flood and fire and death has suffered losses enough without this , which ruined everything not on shelves that was ruinable in the cellar and house.
 

The street car track, where it crosses Seventeenth Street, was buried under between two and three feet and sand for several rods each way–except under the middle of the street where a gulley had been cut that had to be bridged before the cars could cross.
 

On the southeast corner of Clay and Seventeenth, a Stine’s Stone building took in as much water and mud as its cellar would hold, and a foot or two on its first floor. The proprietor during the night, held the door while 2 ½ feet of water raged outside.
 

Across the way, the house of Mr.. Kueniker, the butcher was twisted, gutted, and filled with rocks and mud.
 

Passing towards the foot of Fourteenth Street, all the cellars were filled and other damage done. Near the foot of the street, some street sprinkler wagon stands, the wheels and body covered with sand, only the tub being visible–a ridiculous centennial sphynx.
 

To return to our starting point, at the corner of Main and Seventeenth Street. The flood swept over Jos. Herod’s grass plant and flower garden, several feet deep, the high water mark being visible more than half way up his high board fence, which was on the lean everywhere, having been gullied under here and there. The trees and tree boxes in front of his house and a part of the sidewalk, are probably somewhere between that and the river. His flower beds are under an accumulation of root and rubbish. A part of the foundation of one of his outhouses was washed out; a door leading to his cellar was forced in and the cellar filled. And from that the water made its was into Edgar Bingham’s cellar, doing some little damage, which under the circumstances he is not disposed to make any complaint.

Across the alley from Herod’s on the south side of Seventeenth Street, lives Mrs. Tierney, whose cellar was filled till the water ran over the floor above, doing considerable damage. On the North side of Seventeenth, between Main and Locust, are the house, garden and green house of Mr. Becket, which are ruined again. For year after year, he has expended upon them infinite labor and patient industry. Year after year he has been washed out by the flood accumulating above, till last year when he built nearly around his whole place, a solid stone wall, several feet high–a foot or two higher than the highest flood ever known in this valley–and one of his neighbors informed us that when he finished it he remarked that "there was a wall that God Almighty couldn’t wash out", but it was scarcely a moment’s impediment to that torrent, which swept over it, and swept parts of it away. Even at noon yesterday five sixths of the premises were covered with water, above which showed only here a tall onion top filled with seed, and there a summit leaf of a currant bush. His loss is not easily figured up, but it can be easily stated –he lost everything he had. Fragments of his glass covered green houses were visiable here and there on the flats half a mile to a mile away.

Mineral Street

Is the one commencing about the junction of Seventeenth and Locust Street s and running up Blake’s Hollow and out toward West Dubuque–at the southwest side of Seminary Hill. The most of this hallow was under water from five to ten feet, in fact, was one broad lake above the surface of which not the tops of the pickets of the fences where the fences were not carried away, ws to be seen. At that terrible midnight, by the brightness of the almost unremitting lightening a vast sheet of water covered with fences, sidewalks, pig pens, out buildings–some overturned and partially demolished some carried odd as complete as they had stood upon the ground up rooted shade trees and other trees, tree-boxes, cord wood, garden vegetables cistern tops, with an saw horse, cellar doors, or croquet mallet, went rushing and whirling by while the squealing of drowning prokers, the clamor of perishing chickens, the lowing of terror stricken cattle trying to make their was to safer ground, filled up the rare intervals between the rattlings of heaven’s dreadful artillery. The best morning the scene was one of almost unmitigated desoulation, Every loss of life had been sustained.

Mr. Comton’s cellar was not only filled to overflowing, but the parlor was filled with three or four inches of water and mud. Fences mostly carried away, A cord of wood purchased a say or two before was borne off–not a stick left. In fact no thing is left about the premises but the house.
 

Mrs. Morrissey’s house, occupied by Mr. Griffin, was filled to the window sills. They woke to find the bureau afloat and tumbling about the room. And the bed held down only by their own weight.
 

Mrs. Shoemaker was awakened as she lay in bed, by feeling something cold. She reached other hand and it went into the water. What a time she and her husband had in wading out may be imagined.
 

Mr. Hamill, living in Mr. Flicks house, west side of the street awoke to find the cellar full and a foot of water on the next floor. Mr. Flick built the house on the supposition that it would forever be above the highest water.
 

Henry S Hetherington had built his foundation wall, and the wall around his lot so high, that hte highest water would not get over it. The flood came , and his cellar was filled in the twinkling of an eye. He managed to get out of it one tub and one can of coal oil, then had to hurry out to savehis own life. The water came to the studding upon which the floor above rested–within four inches of the surface of the living rooms. He is not disposed to complain much of his loss, such vegetables as were in his cellar, soap &c. His two cisterns one containing sixty and the other one hundred twenty barrels will have to be emptied of the vilest filth that had accumulated in the back alleys of Blake’s hollow and then it may not rain enough to furnish the water he heeds during the rest of the season. Near the Southwest corner of Mr. Hetherington’s lot is a large tree, which withstood the torrent and stopped the driftwood as it came down, thus deprived of its velocity it swung around against Mr. H’s fence, which is bedded into a solid rock wall, and formed an accumulation of forty cords more or less of debris of all kinds.

A short distance beyond Mr. Hetjerington’s lives Captain Ben Argard, in another handsome two story house. The account we have given of Mr. Hetherington’s premisis will do very well for these except Mr. Agard’s family used the basement for a dining room. The family has leady set for Tuesday night. They didn’t eat breakfast Wednesday morning When we visited the place Wednesday after the flood subsided so that there was over a foot of space between the ceiling and the surface of the water and there the table and dishes were floating A portion of an elbow enterint the chimney proprted an inquiry on our part which resulted in the information that a O.P. Stewart cook stove was dwon there which last heard from, and that we could probably find if we chose to dive for it. Their two cisters were also filled with filthy water, Mrs. Hewitt ( Mrs. Agard’s mother) who is one of the family seemed to grieve mainly over the loss of some fifty or sixty "blooded" Chickens, which she had brought through the infantile perils of teething measles etc. only to have them perish by this calamity. Not one is left to tell its little tail. There are mercly a few instances of the condition of houses in Blake’s Hollow.

Langworthy Hollow

Is the valley nest east of Blake’s Hollow, at the eastern foot of Seminary Hill. The street is filled with the debris of sidewalks bridges and buildings. Every bridge is carried away and the stream let along side of it has cut into the middle of the macadamized track in scores of places, and in other places has cut clear through. A few rods from the lower end, there of lies across the sewer the addition to a house with the roof and everything complete except that its on its side. This is the kitchen to Mr. Kaufmann’s house, which is to be found something over a quarter mile above, opposite to Cushings vinegar factory.

Cushing’s Vinegar factory suffered considerably. The bridges and other improvements in front of the building are swept away. The torrent burst into the basement doors and one of the doors was found where it floated against a wood pile, out near the road. Then the basement floor overflowed and a number of barrels of vinegar floated away how many is not known, but five barrels thereof have been found lying around loose in the vicinity, here and there. Between thirty and forty cords of wood were carried off, and it is now probably somewhere between Bellevue and Navoo. A few hundred dollars we have not heard Mr. Cushings’s estimate this is our own will probably cover the loss at the vinegar factory.

Half a mile or a little less beyond the vinegar factory is or was a dairy kept by a man who’s name we are not ready to vouch for as we couldn’t understand German and he couldn’t understand English, but we will write it down "Jaqueline," as we understood it, althought there is no such name to be found in the directory. His barn, 120 feet long by 23 feet wide by 28 feet high was carried away, and one board left beside another. With it went and were lose a ton and a half of hay a quantity of oats three wagon boxes his harness three cords of wood. His loss of live stock was only one animal of the kind that Sam Flussey would call a steer, a three month old calf and some pigs, Four horses floated down the street with the barn but when it crashed and broke in pieces they escaped unharmed.

In this neighborhoods we met a smart youth of ten or twelve who could talk English with a facility and fluency. His fathers name he said was Christian Buse, "Did your folks meet with any losses" we inquired "I should say we did" was his emphatic response We had struck a bonanza and in our intense gratification sat down beside him on a rotten slime covered sill with an alacrity not to be removed until the next wash day, at least. "What did you loose?" we inquired, "fourteen chickens, two ducks, what else A little white rabbitt is that all yes he said that was all. We neither spoke nor smiled to intimate that the well meaning little fellow had not given us the most valuable information. And passed on.
 

All the way up Langworthy Hollow, we need not ass cellars, basements, were filled, gardens utterly destroyed fences and bridges carried away—the leading loses being those of the vinegar factory and the dairy farm above mentioned.
 

Couler Avenue

At its southern commencement shows few signs of devastation but before one has gone more than a couple of blocks the debris of sidewalks, fences and buildings begins to accumulate, and ere long the street is one of the wreck and desolation. The most of the sidewalks on both sides are torn up. All along the men women and children with pumps pails were clearing the cellars of the water and mud which had washed into them. Some of the houses we were told were deluged so suddenly that the inmates barely escaped with their lives. All this region, clear to the river was under water, in some places five or six feet. The market gardens are almost uniformly ruined. Sometimes two feet of sand and mud being plastered on top of the growing vegetables. In front of the Music Hall, and again in front of the Iowa Brewery, immense piles of lumber fences and similar debris had lodged until it was impossible for the teams to pass till the rubbish had been cleared away. Somewhere between twenty and forty cards of such debris found a resting place in the lower corner of Tivoli Garden, around which about two rods of fencing is left.

We mention a few of those who suffered, so far as we could learn by hasty inquires, made where the losses were most manifest to one looking from the street. Ode the cooper, has a sad scene of destructions to look upon the sidewalk floated against the fence, and knocked it over and the beautiful garden is utterly rained it is worse than ruined–it is not there at all.
 

The very sod on which it was is swept away, Jacob Althauser, cooper, had just finished a large number of beer kegs, which he was to ship the next day they are swept to heaven knows where–if heaven knows anything about beer kegs. His loss is about $400.00 besides loss to his garden. By the side of the brick building constituting the street car headquarters stands a huge wagon which carried to the celebration the girls who represented the thirty seven states. It is canted up at the angle unpleasant to the eye and the mud has accumulated around it to a level with the hubs.

Peter Specht’s cellar in which were stored a portion of his groceries was flooded, causing a loss of $175.00. Glabs Cellars were filled with muddy mixture. But by way of compensation a haystack of Collins place some distance above floated down boldly onto Glabs premises without tipping over or losing the symmetry of its form in transit. Charles Klingenberg’s grocery cellar was filled –some lard spoiled but he considered his loss not worth mentioning.

Heck’s cellar was filled full overflowing the floor of the bar-room The cellar contained nothing of any account to be injured but it will tale the rest of the week to pump it dry and clean it out.

The fences at the corner of Heeb’s lot are gone, and any quantity of rubbish piled there or thereabouts. John Hiem’s brick yard was completely wrecked . He loses 75,000 brick in kiln and 40,000 finished. The yard was washed out in several places and will require at least two weeks.

Labor to put it in a good order. Besides this, Mr. Heim’s cellar was filled and a large stock of liquors and provisions were destroyed, also a quantity of vegetables, and hay. His losses will total $1,000.00. Mr. Heeb’s residence was moved five or six feet from the foundation. Mrs. Keck’s fence was carried away and garden covered with the mud, she thinks she has lost $150.00 , or less than we should have estimated it.

Otto Kline’s groceries were damaged to the amount of $250.00 L Qade’s fence and garden $100.00, John Fussiom the same. W. Bieman’s garden was completely covered with mud and rocks from the hill, and his fence and sidewalks were misplaced, while his tannery was badly damaged and liquors destroyed. In order to save the lives of his children, he was obliged to carry them across the street to the neighbors. Damage $250.00. The garden of Mr. Kutsch, the old man with the dog team was almost entirely washed out causing him a loss of about $100.00/ Mr. and Mrs. George Vogel, living opposite Glab’s woke up about 1 o’clock to find their dwelling flooded and the furniture floating about the room. They managed to escape from the house and took refuge on a fence, from which they were rescued by Mr. Glab. Their loss is about $200.00 Mr. Glabs loss on furniture clothes and provisions is about $500.00 A large barn back of the brewery was moved two or three feet from its foundation and Robert Thompson estimates the damage to his household furniture and garden at $100.00

About $300.00dollars damage was done to the property of Mrs.. C Ernst, a widow. All the fences and sidewalks were carried away, and her house flooded. Aldoph Klee’s fences were carried off, and his garden damaged to the extent of $100.00. S.H. Lampsen’s place was also considerably damaged, fences and sidewalks being carried away, and his barn moved twenty feet from its foundation. The favorite and valuable horse, "Billy O’Neill" was in this barn and when help reached him, he was standing in nearly three feet of water, and to save him, he was brought into Mr.. Lampson’s house until the flood subsided. A horse was found in front of Rhen’s saloon. Hitched to a feeding trough to indicate to whom they belonged and at last accounts, the owner had not yet been found. They may have come from the Peru Bottom , or Bellevue. There is nothing impossible of belief with regard to this centennial storm. The above are but so many cases out of hundreds of similar ones that might be given of the condition of things on Couler Avenue.

Eagle Point Avenue

Was found in a similar condition; sidewalks everywhere except where they were originally built; cellars and basements being pumped out and cistern filled up or over flooded over with sand. Fences broken down; the road guttered till in places it is impassable–one gash a furlong beyond the Fifth Ward School house, being five or six feet deep. The bridge over the small stream just west of the school house at the end of which H Mueller’s grocery store is, was impassable until cleared of the pile of rubbish–old roots, beer kegs, corn stalks, potato tops, shade trees, etc.
 

On the low lands

Toward the C.D.&M. Rail shops, the water was deeper, and the only reason the destruction was not worse was simply that this part of the city, because it does lie low, is not so thickly inhabited. At H Meyers, northwest corner of Jackson and Nineteenth Streets, three pumps were at work. Diagonally across on the South East Corner a lamppost was broken over, the fence driven in and the garden ruined. Near the same corner we found a well, curb and windless setting handsomely on a patch of green grass. We inquired of those around whether it was an exotic, which had drifted under the influence of winds and waves, or weather the well had been carried off and the box that windless left in site. We learned that it drifted from John Elwanger’s well nearly a mile up on the east side of Jackson Street. Men were fasting down their sidewalks. Two gentlemen with whom we chatted, mentioned that when he went to bed on the night of the fourth, the sidewalk in front of his house was composed of plank eight feet long, when he awoke on the fifth he found it composed of plank twelve feet long. Supposed to have expanded endwise under the effect of the Centennial Storm. Our suggestion that this might be someone elses sidewalk he scouted with incredulity for if it is not his sidewalk whose is it? And where is his sidewalk? We would sooner tackle a question in Theology than try to answer such inquires as that or to tell what had become of the bridge across the creek on Twentieth street.
The boards brush hay garden truck, etc, floating down with the current soon.

Clogged the Culverts

Under the river railroad track, and the low lands to the landward were soon covered to the level with the rails, leaving a broad expanse of "back water" extending up to White street in some places two feet deep on Jackson street, there and a half to four feet on Washington Street, and five or six feet deep between there and the railroad track. As may we surmise, the condition of the things here was even worse because the water was deeper than anywhere else in the city. In some instances pouring in through the windows and compelling the occupants to take refuge in the attic for the structure here are mostly of an unpretentious character, about half of them boasting neither a cellar or a second floor. In one of those which has a cellar, the man of the house and his son the latter married and baring a home of his own, on the bluffs, had caught out at his fathers on the night of the fourth, hearing the storm, arise and in the darkness of the father again walked down the cellar, to see any damage was being done. The cellar steps had become loosened at the bottom, and the cellar being nearly full of water, that floated up The father being unaware of this when he put his weight on on the cellar steps down they went, and down he went too. The son hearing the commotion and hearing nothing afterwards, called for his father, but in vain. He knew the old man could not swim, and down plunged the son, raking with spread fingers amid the slime and the bottom for his fathers hair, or but the hem of a garment, by which to drag him to the surface. Again and again he went down, not waiting to take sufficient breath, in his fear for his father’s life. In his horror and despair he hardly knew whether to be mad or glad when he heard the old man calling his name. The father had plunged through and successfully reached the other side of the cellar and reaching the outside door as to escape drowning. The son told us under a pledge not to mention his name as we did not care to have himself nor his father made the butt of ridicule as he hover sensitively fears would be the case if the facts were known among his friends.

The one Fatality

That occurred in Dubuque city happened on these flats, not far from the railroad shops. Mr. and Mrs. Ulrich, German or Swiss were asleep, with their infant child either in a cradle or crib beside the bed . The parents did not waken until the water reached them as they lay in bed. In the darkness and confusion the father rushed through water waist deep to the door, only to find himself surrounded by the flood that by the flashes of lightning seemed limitless in extent. He called for help, but every neighbor was trying to save his own life amid the rushing waters, and none heard his cry, for the roaring of the storm and the rolling of the thunder. The mother reached out in the darkness for her babe, but the cradle in which it had been sleeping had over turned and spilled out the child and probably before the parent were awoke its little life was ended. The family, what was left of it, took the corpse of their dead, only child and found refuge with relatives at some distance from the scene of this disaster and when we reached the vicinity yesterday the shanty was deserted , and surrounded by a sea of mud. But such is the story told us by the neighbors.
 

On the Peru Road,

The principal damage, is that to Walker’s dairy. Five buildings have been swept away from here, his large new barn, and his grain house, spring house, wagon house, and wood house. The water made its way into the cellar of the house with such force as to break down the partition wall between the two cellars. It came up so as to cover the plaza floor. The inmates made every preparation to leave the house and had the water not stopped rising within fifteen minutes they would have done so. The new barn was floated off bodily about three quarters of a mile to the race track, and there went to pieces. And is now scattered all over the fair grounds. A fine cow was found crushed under the barn, but was not Mr. Walkers. He lost none of his stock except some thirty or forty chickens. Also a number of ducks though we were not told of his having a "duckery ", Loss of about $300.

All the fences on Adam Beringer’s two lots were leveled and his garden badly washed. Three acres of corn belonging to the same man neat the fair grounds was washed out Loss not less than $150. We might pursue this list of losses indefinitely but as we write it is drawing toward morning and space and time forbids.

The fair grounds

This suffered severely The flood on the Thursday of last falls fair was not a drop in the bucket compared with this. The track, however, is not damaged so badly as might have been expected. It is washed a little at the upper end, and a good deal of sediment has been deposited at the lower end. The row of one story stalls running up from the track directly eastward and then turning an angle , with the two story stall all being destroyed. The two story barns were moved about ten feet The trees and a good deal of fences east of the stables are down. Twenty acres of the best hay is now completely covered with sand is not to be worth cutting. And impossible to cut if it were. As a recompense for this a part of of the eight tons of hay that was in Walker’s barn has been left on the fair grounds the rest is scattered along the slats or stuffed in the railroad culverts. The water marks in the vicinity show that the fair ground and land adjacent were covered with one unbroken sea, several feet deep. from hill to hill. Several horses were in the stable at the time, but all were rescued without serious injury.

Miscelleous

Lack of time and space not lack of material prevents our entertaining into detail as to other parts of the city. We have mentioned sufficient to enable is to write at most many more columns as we already filled. Up at Eagle Point, considerable damage was done . George Fengler had lost $500.00 worth of wood piled on the ground that never was reached by any freshet before. In the lower parts of town, Dublin cellars were filled and yesterday was spent in pumping and bailing out the same as in the upper portion of the city. Dodge street as usual got scoured and torn by the storm. At the intersection of South Dodge and Dodge streets the street is badly torn and from that point down along the gutter culvert on the north side the damage is considerable. The kitchen and contents of Mr. Kilty’s house on Southern Avenue were swept away.

Thos Clark’s house situated in the southwest corner of Peru Township on the Maquoketa Bottom was destroyed.

The Alex Anderson bridge Julien township spanned a branch of the Catfish was carried away. It was a new bridge just completed and was accepted by the county authorities on Saturday last. It was a truss with 28 feet span.

All the crops growing for miles along the bottoms of Farmers creek were swept away, by the destructive floods of Tuesday night. A large amount of damage was done to the farmers.

Struck by Lightning.

As a fair well shot, the storm fiend struck Richter’s millinery establishment by lightning There was plenty of water in the vicinity and between the proprietor and the neighbors the fire was extinguished before it had done any serious damage.

Meterological Memorandum

The maximum temperature Tuesday was 80 degrees. Highest wind 12 ½ in the night, 28 miles per hour. Lowest barometer at 10 p.m. 29.75. Amount of rain fall, 3.55 inches and enough overflowed from the weather observer’s gauge to make at least an even 4 inches–an amount entirely unprecedented in this locality.

~source: The Dubuque Daily Times, 5 July 1876

~transcribed and submitted by Al Miller.

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