arm broken; Charles Wolstoff, back and Mrs. Wunderly, back and arm, serious.

Emanuel Young internal, serious; Horace F. Young, elbow dislocated, and William Young, ribs and arm.

Richard Zachariah, slight; August Zerbe, head; Charles Zimmerman, Sr., serious; Emma Zimmerman, bruised, and Jacob Zimmerman, Esq., slight.

Coroner William Flattery summoned a jury consisting of Robert P. Linton, George Engelbach, John F. Barnes, John Flanagan, Jacob Horner, and Joshua F. Carpenter to inquire when, where, how and after what manner David Metzgar came to his death. On the 19th the jury filed its finding that the platform was defective, and that the death was caused by the negligence of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company.

The election for governor and congress was to take place on the second Tuesday of October, and meetings were advertised by both parties for October 6, but, owing to the grief prevailing, W. Horace Rose, chairman of the Democratic county committee, and Robert W. Hunt, of the Union executive, cancelled them.

The case of David Gillis vs. The Pennsylvania Railroad Company, for damages growing out of the great disaster, is one of the famous law actions of the county. The plaintiff came from Gallitzin to see the presidential party, and was seriously injured. There were about two hundred cases pending, when it was agreed among the complainants that the Gillis case, being the best cause of action, should be taken, and the others would abide by the result. The plaintiff was represented by Robert L. Johnston, Abraham Kopelin and Daniel McLaughlin, and the defendant by Cyrus L. Pershing and John Scott.

The plaintiff contended: First, that the Company was liable for not having a safe platform at its station, and had advertised the expected arrival of the train. Second, that it carried the presidential party for hire, and that the platform was

a part of the Company's right of way. Third, that the plaintiff was a passenger, and had got off the train on the platform which broke. Fourth, that plaintiff went to the station at the instance of defendant; that the train had not stopped at its usual place, but about two hundred feet beyond, without notifying the multitude, which compelled the movement of the people to get a better view.

The defense denied the averments; contending that it was

a special train furnished without compensation; that the schedule was made and five minute stops arranged on the special request of President Johnson; that the newspapers had publishing the schedule without authority of the Company; that the defendant gave no notice of the arrival of the special and that the train had stopped at the usual place, but President Johnson being on the rear platform, in order to accommodate more people it was moved eastward a short distance.

The cause was tried before Judge Taylor, at December term, 1867. At the conclusion of the plaintiff's case the defendant submitted two points to sustain a compulsory nonsuit, and the plaintiff presented twenty-seven points in opposing it.

After a very exhaustive argument, Judge Taylor sustained the motion for a nonsuit. He said: "We were present and witnessed this sad disaster, and we trust in God we may never witness another scene like it. We are free to say that for the sufferers, we have the most profound sympathy. At the same time, the question is here, as a legal question, whether the defendant is responsible for it."

The plaintiff entered an appeal to the supreme court, and on July 2, 1868, 59 Pa., 129, Mr. Justice Sharswood delivered the opinion which sustained Judge Taylor. In substance it was: 1. A platform at a railroad station is in no sense a public highway. 2. It is for the accommodation of passengers, and other persons have no legal right of walking over it. 3. The owner of a house is bound to have the approach to it sufficient for all visitors on business or otherwise, but if a crowd gathers on it to witness a passing parade, etc., and it breaks down, though not sufficient even for ordinary use, he is not liable to one of the crowd who might be injured.

CHAPTER XX.

THE GREAT FLOOD OF MAY 31, 1889.

The veterans of 1861 had reverently placed their tributes on the graves of their comrades that beautiful Memorial Day of 1889, a wise Providence withholding from them visions of the awful carnage which was to take place on the morrow.

The rain began to fall early that Thursday evening, and before midnight was coming down in blinding sheets, continuing with more or less severity until Friday morning. The incessant downpour had not been confined to the western slope of the Allegheny mountains, but had extended throughout western Pennsylvania, and in the rail-belt leading to the Conemaugh and Stonycreek rivers, a heavier storm had never been known. Both rivers rose eighteen inches per hour, and at 8 A. M., May 31, each channel was almost full to the top of its banks. Within a half hour the overflow from the dam had covered that portion of the town below Market street, and rising rapidly the water soon extended as far up as Jackson street.

The South Fork dam, originally an old reservoir, was a beautiful little lake nestled in the hills sixteen miles above Johnstown, having a basin of thirty-two acres, being about three miles in extreme length, from one-fourth to a mile in width, and seventy-two feet high at the breast. It was fed by the South Fork of the Little Conemaugh which drains the Cedar Swamp, and the little mountain rivulets. Completely encircling it, beneath rows of grand old forest trees, was a delightful driveway, and overlooking it was a commodious club house and about eighteen quaint cottages, whither the members of the South Fork Fishing Club, who owned it, took their families for the summer months.

The mills had closed early in the morning, and the stores, shops and street cars had shortly after followed their example, consequently most men were at home. About eleven o'clock the Poplar street bridge was carried off its piers and seemed to float intact until it reached the new Franklin street bridge, when it went to pieces. An hour later the Cambria City bridge left its moorings.

At one o'clock in the afternoon all the people in the town were completely housed with the exception of an occasional Venetian who visited his neighbor on a rudely constructed raft. At half-past one the water was seven feet above the level of Walnut street at the Welsh church between Lincoln and Vine, and by four o'clock it had risen another foot. Dr. J. K. Lee, who resided at the corner of Main street and Cherry alley, telephoned at a quarter after two that he was then standing in thirty-four inches of water on the first floor of his home, and that he would not come down again until the water subsided.

At two-thirty o'clock it was estimated that the flow of the current in front of the Tribune office was twelve inches, going from the Stonycreek towards Main street at the rate of six miles per hour.

At 3:15 o'clock the Central telephone office was informed by Frank S. Deckert, agent of the Pennsylvania railroad, "that the South Fork reservoir was getting worse all the time, and that the danger of its breaking was increasing momentarily."

In commenting on this startling news the Tribune expressed this opinion, "It is idle to speculate what would be the result if this tremendous body of water-three miles long, a mile wide in places, and sixty feet (ninety feet) deep at the breast at its normal stage-should be thrown into the already submerged Valley of the Conemaugh." At the moment the terrible force was passing through the break in the dam, and commencing its wild rush down the narrow valley, the declivity of which was 53 feet to the mile, at the rate of fifteen miles per hour.

This is the substance of the warning received by the few people who had telephones. It was only a fear, not a certainty, that the long predicted break had occurred. In a few minutes telegrams were received along the line of the Pennsylvania railroad stating that the dam had broken, and the information quickly passed to those within reach, permitted a few to escape to the hills. Even had it been possible to warn all, ninetenths of the people could not have escaped at that hour, with the water from two to ten feet deep everywhere.

It was probably at 3:50 P. M. that the first wave of the flood struck the Stone bridge, being twice held in check on its downward course-first at the Viaduct and next at Bridge No. 6 of the Pennsylvania railroad at the deep cut. In both in

stances the water ran over the tracks and through the cuts before the obstructions gave way.

At 4:10 P. M. the great moving mass of water weighing 18,000,000 tons, reached the main portion of the town, and transformed into a seething lake, the little valley which had been so green and fair twenty-four hours previously. Was it to be wondered at that bridges, Gautier mill stacks, business blocks and houses toppled over as silently and quickly as straws, at the touch of this mighty current, which is estimated to have been moving at a rate of from twenty to thirty miles per hour at that time?

The current of the wave known as the 4:10, seemed to keep in a reasonably straight line with the Little Conemaugh river until it touched Westmont Hill at the Stone bridge, when, instead of following the channel, it turned up the Stonycreek. This turn of the water caused the great weight behind it to make another break and open a channel from the Little Conemaugh to the Stonycreek, which on Main street extended from the Presbyterian Church to the residence of Frank W. Hay. This break was not sufficient to relieve the great force, and another channel was made between these rivers, which, with Main street as the point of measurement, reached from the Louther and Green building on the corner of Main and Clinton streets, to Jackson street. The effects were as terrible in these new-made channels as they were in the Little Conemaugh.

At 4:15 P. M., houses, planing mills, and rinks were floating around the buildings. At Walnut street the great force seemed to have spent its fury for another onslaught on the people below the Stone bridge. Observers on the roofs of the few houses that remained standing, and those huddled together in the eddy between Walnut and Union, south of Main, could see men, women and children being carried towards the Stone bridge and Westmont Hill.

With the giving away of the embankment of the Pennsylvania railroad from the Stone bridge almost to the passenger station, the angry waters made a new rush for victims below. House after house passed through the break, carrying people on their roofs to an almost certain death down the river. Some lives were even lost as they passed through the breach before the rails were torn asunder, it being wellnigh impossible for houses to be carried under without toppling over.

Within three minutes after the first mighty rush, these